The King (The Original Sinners: White Years, #2)(22)

as the coke hit his bloodstream.

When he strode through the foyer, he noticed two wellturned ankles shod in a pair of beige pumps resting on the

arm of his sofa in his sitting room.

“Blaise?” He peered over the back of the sofa and found a

rather euphoric-looking Blaise laying supine and looking sublime. She had a bowl of strawberries balanced on her chest. “Bonne soir, monsieur.” She gave a tired happy laugh and

popped a strawberry in her mouth. Her usually perfectly

coiffed hair was now mussed, and it appeared she’d gotten

undressed and redressed at some point. “I love your house.

It’s the best house in New York. Have I ever told you that?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Are you stoned?”

She shook her head and giggled. “Nope. This is all afterglow.”

“Afterglow?”

“You know what’s amazing, King? He didn’t even lay a

hand on me. But that was easily—” she made a huge sweeping gesture with her arm “—easily the best pain I’ve ever experienced.”

“Pain?”

“A little B, a little D and a lot of S&M. I was the M.” “You were the M, were you?”

“It was amazing. Your friend is a god of pain.”

“Who? Who’s a god?”

“Your blond friend. S?ren.”

Kingsley glared down at her.

“You had sex with S?ren while I was gone?”

“No, Silly. I said he hardly touched me. He didn’t have to.

His soul touched me. His pain touched me.”

“You’re out of your mind. How did this happen?” “I don’t know.” She raised both hands in the air to stretch.

“After you left he asked me how I spelled my name. I said like

Blaise Pascal, and then he told me about how Blaise Pascal, he

was a mathematician who—”

“He hated the Jesuits. Wrote all sorts of slanderous, and

therefore true, things about them.”

“That. Anyway, we were talking, and then I did what you

said I should do and I took him up to the playroom—the one

with the Francis Bacon painting over the bed—and suddenly

I’m getting f logged and whipped, and then I had an orgasm

from the pain alone. Then I was down here with my skirt on

backward. I raided your fridge. You know kink makes me

hungry.”

She lifted her bowl of strawberries and offered him one.

Kingsley ignored them.

“Do you think you and your friend would tag-team me

someday?”

“No. Eat your strawberries. I need to talk to the god.” “Tell him I want to kiss his feet. Again.”

“I’ll pass that along.”

She waved her hand, shooing him from the room. “S?ren?” Kingsley shouted as he ran up the stairs. “I’m in my room,” S?ren called back. Kingsley had given

him his own guest room to stay in whenever he wished. So

far he hadn’t slept any nights in it.

“All rooms are my room.” Kingsley threw open the door to

the guest room. S?ren stood on the opposite side of the bed,

an open silver suitcase in front of him.

“Very well, then. I’m in your room.”

“Can I ask you one question?”

“Ask.”

“What did you do to Blaise?”

S?ren looked up at him.

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“Did you f*ck her?”

“That’s two questions, and no, I didn’t. Are you upset we

played? She said she’s allowed to be with anyone she wants.” “I don’t care who she plays with. I want to know why she’s

lying on my couch in a stupor claiming you gave her the best

pain of her life?”

“The best? I’m sure that’s an exaggeration, but I’m pleased

she enjoyed herself.” S?ren smiled as he dug through the suitcase of kink toys Kingsley kept under every bed in the house.

“I certainly enjoyed her.”

“So all that about not breaking your vows was, quoi?” “There was no sex, and I didn’t marry her. Nor did I take

money from her or refuse to obey a direct order from the

pope.”

“What about—” Kingsley made a specific hand gesture. “Well,” S?ren said. “I did do that, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But we Jesuits aren’t nearly so hard-line or heavy-handed

as the Curia when it comes to masturbation. My God, there

are at least three puns in that last sentence. Entirely unintentional.”

“Stop joking. This is serious.”

“It’s not serious. Calm down, Kingsley.”

“I’m perfectly calm.”

“You’re speaking in tongues, Kingsley. I heard French and

English, and some Spanish mixed in, and you’re speaking them

all at the same time.”

“You’re a priest. A Jesuit priest. And I left the house for one

hour and come back, and I’ve got a girl with afterglow on my