Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy #1)

I’ve thought about getting my hood pierced for years, and almost did before I met Brett. I brought it up once to him, but he dismissed it as a stupid idea.

That didn’t stop me from wanting it, though, and wondering what it would be like. My hips shift from side to side as Mount studies me like he’s reading my every reaction and expression.

“You’ve already had it done before?” This is actually a question, one of the few he’s truly asked me.

I shake my head. “No.”

“But you wanted to do it.”

I bite down on my lip, not wanting to actually admit it.

Mount doesn’t need to hear my confession. He reads it on my face.

“You’re getting it pierced tonight.”

This time, my mouth drops open in shock. “What?”

“I swore I’d keep this p*ssy to myself, but I want you pierced with the jewelry I choose. An emerald. Every time I spread your legs, I want to see it flash at me the same way your eyes do.”

His tongue circles my clit, teasing and testing before nipping and tugging. My hips press up against his mouth, increasing the pressure, but he backs off again.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want to come,” I say instead.

“Not until you admit you want that piercing. That you want to feel it between your legs, and that every time you move, you’ll think of me, even without your ass or p*ssy filled.”

His finger lazily circles my entrance, pushing in and out to the first knuckle, teasing me until I want to scream. I manage to keep my silence for another ninety seconds. I count them in my head, and I can’t hold back any longer.

“Just let me come.”

His finger plunges inside me, f*cking me now.

“Not until you tell me you want it. I can see it in your face, but I need to hear it from those f*ckable lips.”

At this point, I’m ready to agree to nearly anything this manipulative son of a bitch demands, but the fact that it’s something I’ve secretly wanted for years? What do I have to lose?

“Fine! Yes! I want it. Now, let me come.”

True to his word, Mount devours me again, his lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers getting me off in record time. As soon as the orgasm shimmers through my body like some kind of voodoo magic, he stands and flips my skirt down.

“Don’t ever say I never gave you anything you asked for.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps on the screen. He starts to speak as he walks away from where I’m still bound to the desk.

“I need a piercer. Tonight. Female.” Mount pauses. “Yeah, she’ll do. Make sure she knows what happens if she talks. Get her here in fifteen minutes with her equipment and gold-and-emerald jewelry.” Another pause. “Make it happen.” He ends the call.

The reality of what I’ve agreed to crashes into me. “We’re really doing this? Now? Tonight?”

Mount turns around to face me. “You think I’m going to give you a chance for second thoughts? You want it. I’m willing to bet you’ve wanted it for years.” He tilts his head to the side, as though trying to read my mind. “Are you capable of telling the truth, or are you going to lie to me again?”

His challenge forces my honesty. “I’ve thought about it.”

“Why didn’t you do it? You go after everything else you want.”

I don’t answer, but he makes an assumption that’s probably accurate.

“Ah. Well now, you don’t have that problem anymore. I think it’s hot as f*ck, and I can’t wait to see you pierced.”

I tug at my bindings. “Are you . . . are you going to leave me like this when she comes?” I heard him request a female, and was actually thankful for that.

“Will you behave if I let you free?”

“I hate that word,” I tell him. “You make me sound like a child.”

He lowers to a crouch and reaches for the buckle on one of my ankles before rephrasing his question. “Are you going to make me regret not gagging you and keeping you bound? Because the consequences of your actions over the next hour will affect not only you, but someone else’s life.”

I let several hammering heartbeats pass before I nod. “You have nothing to worry about.”

At that reply, he huffs out a laugh and unbuckles that ankle and then the other before moving to free my wrists.

“Why is that funny?”

“Someday, I might tell you.”

When my legs are free, I slide them shut, well aware I’m going to have to spread them again, but this time for a stranger with a needle. I’m finally going to get the naughty piercing I’ve wanted since college but was never brave enough to actually get.

Is that what Mount’s doing? Pushing me outside my comfort zone?

Undoubtedly.

And I like it.

Within fifteen minutes, there’s a knock at the door and Mount calls out, “Enter.”

The bookcase slides open, and Scar escorts in a woman who isn’t a stranger.

“Delilah?”

Her eyes widen beneath her bright blue bangs. “Holy shit. I didn’t see that coming.”

“And you’ll keep your mouth shut about it,” Mount says to her, his tone threatening.

Delilah looks from me to him, her posture stiffening. “I’m only doing this if she’s willing. If this is something you’re trying to force on her, you’ll have to find someone else.”

Mount’s expression hardens to granite like it did this morning, and I wonder if I’m the only person who sees the other side of him. What Magnolia told me this afternoon makes me think that’s the case, and I’m not sure what to do with that knowledge yet.

“Do you want to live until morning?” Mount asks Delilah, and she bites down on her lip.

There’s no way I’m going to let him hurt her. For the first time, I modulate my tone before I speak to him, in consideration of my recent discovery that he isn’t the same man when there’s someone else in the room.

“She’s a friend. It’s okay.” I reach out a hand and catch the arm of his suit jacket to give it the slightest tug.

Mount drops his gaze to where I’m touching him before dragging it up to my face with a new intensity.

“She won’t say anything,” I say quietly.

The weight of his silence nearly crushes us all. Finally, he speaks. “Then we have no issue.”

When I release my hold on his arm, he flexes his fingers before balling them into a fist. He uncurls them a second later and shoves his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.

I look across the room to where Delilah stands. Her posture is tense, as if she’s poised to run for the exit, and I can’t say I blame her. The Mount she’s subjected to is the ruthless bastard everyone else knows.

“I want to do this,” I tell her.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been drinking?” she asks.

“No more questions.” Mount snaps out his response.

Delilah glances up at him, only willing to meet his gaze for the barest moment before looking back to me. “It’s important to know for bleeding issues.”

I answer her. “I’m completely sober.”

She gives me a look that says, You might be sober but something is totally f*cked up about this situation.

Delilah’s not wrong about that.