Mack (King #4)(33)

Our mouths locked and tongues dancing in a sensual, animalistic rhythm, I rocked my pelvis, and he bore down, grinding his base against my needy, throbbing c-spot.

It was then, of all the blasted moments in the world, that I realized we might have ventured into a world unknown to me, but my body was still a slave to biology. Fuck. Protection.

“Mack, I’m going to come,” I panted, him riding me hard, kissing me harder.

“Me too,” he groaned deliciously.

“I’m not on the pill.”

“Neither am I.”

Goddammit. I didn’t want to stop. Not now, but getting pregnant and…I started coming hard. “OhgodMack. Ohgod.” My entire body tensed as I felt a hard, sinful wave of pleasure explode through every nerve ending in my body, blinding my vision with white light. Meanwhile, Mack made short, little jabs with his cock, milking every ounce of pleasure he could from my body.

Now I get it! Now I get it! I screamed in my head, the orgasm filling every corner of my body with sinful contractions laced with ecstasy. Hot baths, long walks, and fake cheese could never compare to this!

It took several delicious moments for me to realize it was over, but then Mack thrust hard with the entire weight of his body and craned his neck toward the ceiling. He then quickly pulled out and gripped his cock in his hand, shooting his cum onto my stomach as I watched. Honestly, it was beyond f*cking hot to watch him come.

After a few moments, the hard lust on Mack’s face softened, and he lay down at my side, his chest heaving with exertion. “It gets better every time.”

God, how I wished I could remember and had all of the missing pieces.

After a few long moments, Mack got a small cloth and cleaned me up. He covered me with a quilted throw that had been hanging on the arm of the couch.

“I’m going to miss this dance, Theodora.”

“Dance?”

“Yes. You. Me. The way our bodies move. It’s like dancing.”

“But without our clothes on.”

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Well, f*cking well. What do we have here?” I heard a strange female voice say.

I looked up and there was an anorexic blonde standing over us with a sadistic grin on her familiar face. The woman from the center? She was the one who’d come out of Mack’s room and dismissed me like a piece of rat trash, which is lower than human trash.

What was she doing here?





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


MACK





How the hell did Miranda find us? Yes, I knew she was cunning and had an arsenal of powerful relics that rivaled that of my brother’s, but she was the last person I expected to see. Not that I didn’t think she’d be looking for me. That was no surprise. I’d only had one chalice but had needed two favors: locating Theodora (to free my soul from the curse) and having the ankh removed (so I couldn’t come back to life).

I’d bartered with Miranda to have the ankh removed, and she’d had to call in several other favors from members of the 10 Club to get it done. Talia, another member, helped me find Theodora by loaning me her tracker—a woman with psychic abilities. Yes, Talia owned a woman. Many members of the 10 Club owned people.

And just who was this 10 Club? Take the most powerful, wealthy individuals on earth—oil sheiks, billionaire CEOs, presidents of major countries, and good old-fashioned aristocrats—pluck out all the sadistic f*ckers with fetishes, psychotic personalities, and insatiable greed, and put them in a club where they pooled their resources to form alliances that made them impermeable to any law or government. Of course, many of them are the government—the Club helped put them there. Membership could get you just about anything, although currency was rarely their currency. Amongst themselves, they bartered for everything from people and weapons to items that fell into more of the occult category. Basically, anything that money couldn’t buy.

How did I know so much?

King formed the network thousands of years ago, operating it from behind the scenes, as a means to help him find the Artifact—that stone he needed to come back to life. In the meantime, while he looked, he built his own arsenal and network of power. Of course, now my brother had everything he wanted, including possession of his soul and a body, and he was no longer a sadistic sonofabitch. He was also burdened with trying to figure out how to undo the 10 Club monster he’d created.

I was the cornerstone of his plan.

How?

You guessed it. Killing off the members. No, I didn’t feel sorry for them. Those people had plenty of blood on their hands and cared for no one. The previous president, a guy named Vaughn, used to barter for women. Exotic women. He would then charge admission to let people watch him peel the skin from their bodies. Sometimes he took the skins and wrapped them around his dead lover’s body so he could play with her. Yes, like I said, they were all sick f*ckers. Every last one of them. And I would gladly kill them if it weren’t for one simple fact: I needed out. Okay, that and I was just as dangerous as they were. But not as sick. Not even close.

In any case, Miranda was acting president of 10 Club and completely unaware that my brother ran the operations. Most members simply accepted that the person who managed the funds and legalities—including ensuring members never went to prison or were hassled by authorities for their sometimes very illegal activities such as murder, enslavement, and kidnapping—maintained anonymity because he didn’t want to become a target. The members were constantly stabbing each other in the back and stealing from one another.