A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

thirty one

Caine

The blonde rakes her long nails down my chest, her nimble fingers making quick work of my zipper. She's attractive in an obvious way. Long blonde hair, tanned skin, and big tits. Any other time I would have been eating this up, having an attractive woman run her hands all over me. But right now, I feel quite the opposite.

I had come to the Beyala Roza in desperate need of a distraction. One that didn't resemble a certain brunette. The blonde had been the perfect candidate, waltzing right over to me and readily agreeing to follow me up to my office.

I should feel lust in a moment like this, but instead I just feel numb. Like my body has forgotten how to react to physical touch completely. The blonde is moments away from putting my cock in her mouth and I suddenly realize I don't want this. She's not the one I want on her knees for me.

"I've changed my mind." I say, backing away. I can't help but think this isn't the first time I've rejected a woman in the past twenty four hours.

"Oh, you want to get right to the good stuff then." The blonde purrs, she throws herself on the leather couch, easing her lacy thong down her thighs.

"No. I've changed my mind about all of it." I bite. I tuck my shirt back into my pants and zip them up.

"Excuse me?" She spats. She sits up on her elbows, her panties pulled halfway down her legs and her mouth agape. In my desperation I had forgotten to ask for her name.

"Leave." I demand, my patience wearing thin.

She stands and fixes herself before coming to stand before me.

"Having trouble getting it up?" She sneers. "If that's the case, then you're saving me a whole lot of trouble." My arm lashes out, my hands gripping her elongated neck, squeezing her around the throat. She squeaks, her long nails digging into my hands.

"Trust me, I have no problem performing. It's just that I am no longer in need of your service. So get the fuck out of my sight before you live to regret it." Her eyes narrow, her mouth opening to speak, but I squeeze her throat tighter. Her pupils dilate, a panicked look overcoming her features. She starts slapping at my hand pathetically, trying to get me to release her.

I  finally do let go, pushing her away from me roughly. She coughs and sputters before giving me a scathing look and marching out the door. I slam the door shut and go over to the small window.

It's getting dark, the sun setting low over the city. The sun rays are reflecting off the river making it appear blood red. I release a pent up breath, my mind too clouded to focus on anything.

The only thought that I knew to be true, is the fact that my life was nothing but a never ending sea of despair. I rarely have any reprieves, any moments of contentment. It's all parts darkness with a few, fleeting sparks of light.

I saw one of those sparks last night.

Everything about last night felt surreal. My mind wasn't focused on revenge, or a inevitable war with certain bloodshed. My mind had been in the moment.Touching her, tasting her, coming down her throat. Fuck. I run my hand down my face. I wasn't turned on by the blonde moments ago, but with thoughts of the American, my cock is now throbbing.

I had called Connell early this morning offering my apologies for my display of rage at the club last night. Connell had only laughed saying he had done worse for good cunt. I had bitten my tongue at that but we had agreed to go forward with our deal. With that cleared from my conscious, I was left with nothing but the haunting thoughts of the aftermath of what had happened after the club incident.