King of Envy: Chapter 41

Ayana’s needy cry was my undoing. She was dripping after I slapped her pussy, and I didn’t bother to hold back when I hooked my fingers in her underwear again. I tore it off with one sharp yank and tossed the shredded material on the floor.

I’d been on edge all day. All damn week, if I were being honest. The ambush on Shepherd had monopolized my time and energy, which meant I hadn’t seen her in days.

I’d survived decades without her, but now that I had her in my life, I couldn’t imagine living in her absence.

I needed to see her.

Touch her.

Taste her.

Fill myself up with her so thoroughly that she was forever etched into my soul.

“Tell me.” I pushed a finger inside her. She was so wet it slid in without resistance. “Did you ever kiss Jordan during your engagement?”

Ayana’s breath stuttered. She rolled her hips, trying to grind against my hand without falling off the narrow rail. “Are you really asking me about another guy right now?”

I pushed deeper inside her, hitting a spot that made her gasp. “Answer me.” My tone was hard and unyielding.

She was soaking my hand. I hungered to give her what she silently begged me for until she gushed all over me, but I held back.

Not yet.

After years of waiting and wanting, she was finally mine. Only mine. And I was going to savor every goddamn second of it.

“Yes.” Ayana swallowed. “A few times.”

My thumb pressed against her clit hard enough to elicit an involuntary jerk. Her hips bucked again. “How many times is ‘a few?’” I asked darkly.

“I’m—I’m not sure.” A desperate mewl escaped when I withdrew my finger.

“Guess.” I delivered another slap to her pussy. Her clit throbbed against my palm, and the sweet, musky scent of her arousal thickened in the air.

Fuck, she was wet. My cock pulsed with need.

“Four,” she sobbed. “We kissed four times.”

“Good.” I brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face and brought my mouth next to her ear. “Because that’s how many times I’m going to fuck your brains out in this elevator, srce. I’m going to make you come so fucking hard you won’t remember your own name after, much less how often you’ve kissed another man.”

She shuddered. The hard points of her nipples poked through her dress.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

The knowledge sent a rush of white-hot desire to my groin. My cock was so hard it hurt, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I pushed Ayana’s legs wider with my knee and retrieved a condom from my pocket. I only had one on me, so I had to be creative about those four orgasms, but I was sure I’d think of something.

Once I sheathed myself, I wasted no time plunging inside her. I tugged at the zipper of her dress until the material sagged around her waist, baring her breasts. I lowered my head and feasted on her nipples while I pounded her and drank in the sweet sound of her screams and moans.

The wet, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the elevator. This was the only thing that existed. Being with her enthralled me completely, and I was possessed by the need to drive every other thought out of her mind. To consume her as much as she consumed me.

I closed my teeth around her nipple and tugged. She convulsed around my cock with a gasp. I was so deep inside her I didn’t know where I ended and she began, and it still wasn’t enough.

I raised my head and kissed her again, drinking in her taste. Her desire. Her passion.

I wasn’t used to losing control. Whether in business or sex, I always kept a tight rein on emotions. I approached every negotiating table with the upper hand because I never wanted the deal as much as the other side did. I could easily walk away and not think twice about it.

But with Ayana, there was no walking away. No negotiation. She was mine, and I would die before I lost her.

“Vuk.” She cried out, her heels digging into my back. She was as ferocious in her lust as I was, and I fucking loved it. Seeing her at the shooting range had been the hottest thing I’d ever encountered—not because of the weapons or those sexy yet impractical heels, but because of her strength and determination. When she wanted something, she went after it. When she failed, she picked herself up and tried again.

There was nothing in the world sexier than that.

“Say my name again,” I growled.

“Vuk.” Ayana’s head fell back against the wall. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me harder. I want—I need to—oh God!” Her cry ripped through me when I thrust into her with fierce abandon. She was shaking, her screams melting into a sob as she buried her face in my neck and rode out the waves of her orgasm.

“Count it.” I slowed my thrusts, not wanting to come too soon. We had so many more orgasms to go. “Count how many times you come for me, srce.”

“One.” She whined in protest when I pulled out of her and set her on the floor.

“Bend over and grab the rail,” I commanded.

She obeyed without hesitation. My cock throbbed again at the luscious sight of her spread wide and soaked from me. The aftermath of her first orgasm slicked her thighs. Her panties were a shredded mess on the floor, and her dress was bunched around her waist, but those boots…fuck. The sleek black leather molded to every curve of her legs, and the heels were sharp enough to kill.

The most beautiful woman in the world, bent over half-naked and wearing the sexiest shoes I’d ever seen. I almost blew my load right then and there.

I gritted my teeth and counted to three. Once I’d regained sufficient control, I lined the tip of my cock against her pussy again.

“You like it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?” I squeezed her ass with both hands.

Ayana nodded frantically, her body quivering with anticipation.

I gave her exactly what she asked for. I leaned forward and closed one hand around her throat, using it as leverage so I could fuck her faster, harder, deeper. Sweat coated our skin. The scent of sex drenched the velvet-paneled walls, turning the elegant elevator into a depraved den of sin.

It didn’t take long for Ayana to come apart again. Her back bowed, and her pussy spasmed, milking my cock in a hungry search for more.

Shit. I closed my eyes, the pleasure almost too much to bear. “Count,” I ordered. The sound of my taut voice restored some semblance of restraint.

“Two,” she sobbed.

I pulled out again, turned her around, and sank to my knees. My entire body pulsated with lust. I needed more time to cool down, so I coaxed her third orgasm out another way.

I started slowly, bathing her sensitized clit with long, slow sweeps of my tongue until the throes of her orgasm abated. When her breathing steadied, I intensified my efforts, licking and sucking with single-minded intensity until I had her writhing against my face.

Ayana grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face tighter to her body. “Right there! There. Oh fuck!”

I hooked one of her legs over my shoulder so I could dive deeper. I thrust my tongue inside her, and it took her less than two seconds to flood my mouth with her sweet juices.

She tasted so fucking good, I couldn’t let any of it go to waste. I held her firmly in place until I’d lapped up every single drop. When I finally rose to my feet, my face glistening with the reward of my efforts, she was nearly incoherent.

“Three.” Her throaty rasp shot straight to my groin. “I can’t take anymore,” she pleaded when I lifted her up and wrapped her legs around my waist. “Vu—ungh.” She groaned when I slowly impaled her on my cock.

“Yes, you can,” I said calmly. “You can take all of it, sweetheart.” I pushed deeper until I was buried balls deep inside her. “One more.” I placed a tender kiss on her lips. “Let’s make it count.”

And we did.

By my second thrust, Ayana had forgotten her protests and was riding me with abandon. I held her while she bounced up and down my cock, wringing every ounce of pleasure from both of us until I couldn’t take it anymore.

My balls tightened, and I hissed out a curse. I shifted my weight so I could reach down and play with her clit. I dug my thumb against the swollen nub, urging her toward⁠—

Ayana cried out for the umpteenth time that day. Lights exploded behind my eyes. My loud grunt mingled with the sounds of her ecstasy as we fell apart together, our bodies pressed into one trembling, sweat-soaked embrace.

Whereas the climb had been exquisite agony, the comedown was soft, almost peaceful. We held each other long after our breathing returned to normal, each too lost in our own world to risk pulling away first.

“Four,” Ayana whispered.

“Four what?” I asked against her neck.

“What?”

“What are you counting, Ayana?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded dazed. “I can’t really think properly right now.”

Her skin muffled the sound of my chuckle. I lifted my head and set her gently on her feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She was a wreck, but she was still so gorgeous she took my breath away.

I restarted the elevator and picked up her ruined underwear from the ground. When we arrived at my office, I cleaned us both off with a long, hot shower.

“Thank God for private elevators,” Ayana said after. “And private bathrooms.” She sank onto the bed with a drowsy sigh. She was practically swimming in my bathrobe.

I smiled. “Like I said, being the MD has its perks.”

My office at Valhalla was really a suite of rooms that included the actual office, a sitting area, an ensuite bathroom, and even a bedroom with a view of the landscaped grounds. I rarely used it, but it came in handy today.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I sent your dress down for dry cleaning while you were, uh, busy,” I said. Ayana had stayed in the bathroom after our shower and spent quite a while on her after-shower beauty routine. “It’ll be ready in a few hours. In the meantime, you can choose a new outfit from the closet.”

The last word barely left my mouth before she bounded to her feet and beelined to the walk-in wardrobe. “Do you always keep women’s clothes in your office?” she teased. She threw open the doors, her face lighting up at the wealth of options awaiting her.

I grunted. “They’re for you. I called the club’s in-house stylist and had her bring up some options while you were in the bathroom.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” But Ayana was already deep in the closet, her voice muffled by layers of silk and cashmere. She reappeared a minute later with wide eyes and a silky gold dress in hand. “Vuk. This a ten-thousand-dollar dress.”

“Yes.” When she continued to gape at me, my brows furrowed. “Too cheap?”

“Too expensive.” She rubbed the material between her fingers. “This designer only makes ten of each dress. It’s not something you throw on while you’re waiting for your dry cleaning.”

Ten of each dress sounded like a stupid business decision, but I kept that to myself.

“It’s just a dress, srce,” I said, amused. “Unless you don’t like it, in which case I can have someone bring more options.”

“No.” Ayana clutched the dress to her chest. “This is perfect. Don’t you dare take it from me.”

“You’re the supermodel. I thought you’d be used to ten-thousand-dollar dresses,” I teased.

“Listen, that stuff is for the runway. I love a good exclusive piece, but I don’t walk around in couture every day. That’s just asking to get robbed.” She took off her bathrobe and slipped into the dress. It fit her perfectly.

“If someone tries to rob you, shoot them,” I said. “But try to hit them and not an innocent bystander.”

I laughed when she pinned me with a playful glare. She threw a wadded-up piece of tissue paper at me. I easily caught it with one hand.

“What are you doing next Friday?” I asked.

“It’s Maya’s birthday. She’s throwing a big party to celebrate.” Ayana came over and sat next to me on the bed. “You’re invited too. You should come.”

The only Maya I knew was Maya Singh. I liked her well enough, but I hated birthday parties.

I made a noncommittal noise. “Maybe.”

“Why? What’s going on next Friday?” Ayana asked.

“I was planning on making D.C. up to you then, but we can push it to the Friday after next.”

“Um.” I felt the heat pouring off her cheeks. “I thought that was what the elevator was for.”

“I like to be thorough in my apologies.”

Another smile surfaced at her flustered expression. I didn’t have more sex planned for my “official” apology—though I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to the idea—but a knock on the outer office door interrupted our conversation before I could clarify.

A notification popped up on my phone, reminding me of my scheduled appointment. Shit. I’d forgotten all about it.

“Excuse me. I have a quick meeting I need to take, but make yourself at home,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry,” Ayana reassured me. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Dominic Davenport strode in right as I sank into the seat behind my desk.

“You wanted to see me.” He took the chair opposite mine and leaned back, his expression cool. In his custom-tailored suit and perfectly knotted tie, he was the picture of a Wall Street titan.

He also didn’t insist on small talk. I liked that about him.

I wrote my reply on a sheet of paper. I need you to trace a money trail for me.

Shepherd was dead, and Roman had pinned the safe house explosion on the other faction. He was currently consolidating Shepherd’s followers under his leadership. It was all going according to plan, but there was one other thing that had been bugging me.

Dexter had provided some meager details about the source of the Brotherhood’s funding, but I wanted to know exactly who was funneling money into the organization when they weren’t taking on new contracts.

Roman would shit a brick if he ever found out I was involving his brother in our scheme, but when it came to the financial world, no one was more powerful or resourceful than Dominic.

Dominic’s eyes glinted. “You want a favor.”

I rarely asked for favors. I hated owing other people, but sometimes, it was necessary.

I nodded.

He smiled. “Consider it done.”