Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy #1)

“f*ck.” I let out the curse, and yes, I know it’s not ladylike, but I was raised around men working in a distillery. “Then get the hell out so I can.”

I expect another imperious glare or smug grin followed by him telling me he doesn’t have to do a damned thing, but instead he pushes off the door frame and disappears into the master bedroom.

Shocking, actually. And more worrisome than I want to admit.

I rush through getting ready, trying to make sure my face looks as professional as possible before I hurry into the closet to find, of course, only one outfit waiting for me.

This time it’s a wrap dress made of silky fabric in stark black. The same color of Mount’s perfectly tailored suit. Not that I noticed or anything.

And, miracle of miracles, there’s a matching black thong and a black bra that plunges in the middle, perfectly suited to the neckline of the dress. The same gold chain and lock dangles on the hanger from the night before.

I ignore it. He didn’t notice I wasn’t wearing it last night, so maybe he won’t notice this morning. Not wearing it might be petty, but if it helps me retain another shred of control, I’ll take it.

I slide on an expensive pair of black pumps with gold trim around the soles and heels and stride into the bedroom, expecting to find Mount waiting on the bed. But he isn’t. I find him in the sitting room, lounging on an armless chair next to the table where the covered trays were yesterday. Those are absent today as well.

“Shit, my coat.” I turn around to dash back into the bedroom to grab it and then head straight for the door that leads out of my cage.

“Aren’t you forgetting an accessory?” Mount asks.

The damn necklace. Of course he has to make it an issue.

“Fine.”

I spin on a heel, pissed that I’m giving in to him, but telling myself it’s only because I can’t be late for this meeting. It’s not an option.

Mount was right. My loan officer is pissed that we’re only paying the minimum payment on our line of credit every month, even as we continue to borrow. Today is my chance to convince him that the check coming in from the Voodoo Kings will take a big enough chunk out of what we owe to keep Seven Sinners from being labeled “troubled.” The last place I want our loan to end up is in the hands of a workout officer, who will basically tell me I need to liquidate, pay off the debt I owe the bank, and walk away. I’ve already sold my body to the devil to save Seven Sinners, and now I might have to offer my soul to the bank to keep it running.

I grab the necklace and realize the lock isn’t just a charm; it actually holds the two ends of the chain together.

Like a freaking collar.

Are you kidding me right now? I want to rebel against this more than anything, but I don’t have the time. I also don’t have the key. But I guarantee I know who does.

I walk into the sitting room and hold it out. “I can’t put it on. It needs a key.”

Mount’s hand disappears into his suit jacket pocket and raises a tiny flash of gold, and I hand the chain over to him.

“So compliant this morning, despite your earlier attitude.”

“Because I don’t have time to waste on you. I have more important things to worry about.”

Mount’s expression turns darkly amused. “You have no idea how wrong that statement is. You need to learn who your real adversaries are, girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I f*cking want.” He unlocks the necklace. “Turn around.”

I swivel, giving him my back, and stupidly, I’m not afraid of what he could do to me. I should be. I need to be. But that fear would be all-consuming, even more so than the man himself, and my refusal to cower will not change.

Mount’s fingers, ridiculously hot against my skin, drag along the lines of my collarbone until the chain rests a few inches from my throat. The click is nearly inaudible when he snaps the lock in place, but his touch heightens my awareness as he spins the necklace around so the lock hangs in the front.

“Don’t even bother trying to take it off without the key. It won’t break.”

My smart mouth and sharp tongue beg to argue with him, but I don’t have time. “Fine. Whatever. Now, where’s Scar and the hood so I can get to work?”

Another smile stretches across Mount’s lips. “You’re missing your final accessory.”

Oh my f*cking God. If he means that vibrator, I might murder him, but then again, time is of the essence.

“Where is it?” My question is snappish at best, bitchy at worst.

Mount’s grin turns lazier as he holds out another black box, but this one looks different from yesterday’s. A cold shroud settles around me as he lifts the lid to reveal what’s inside.

Oh, hell no.

There are things I just won’t do. I may not be a good girl, like perfect Imogen, but I’m not a bad girl like Jury either. And I never have and never will open my back door for business.

“No.” My denial is implacable as I stare down at the black-and-gold butt plug nestled in black velvet.

Mount’s grip tightens on the box. “You need to remove that f*cking word from your vocabulary when you’re dealing with me. It’ll save you a lot of grief.”

“No. f*cking. Way,” I say, emphasizing each word. “That is not going in me.”

Mount’s dark gaze burns into me. “Did you not understand when I told you I’d be making use of your hands, mouth, tits, cunt, and ass? Because that’s non-negotiable. You agreed. Willingly.”

I swallow another sharp reply. My ass is virgin territory, and I intended for it to remain virgin territory until I was interred in the family burial vault.

“Tick. Tock. Time is running short, Keira. You want to make your meeting or miss it? Because I happen to know for a fact that Lloyd Bunt isn’t going to give you a chance to reschedule before he hands your file over to the workout department. Then you’ll have to let me taint your pure little body to save your precious company, and it’s going to go down the drain anyway.”

“I f*cking hate you.” The words come out on a single breath.

“Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me,” he replies, his smile never faltering, but his eyes flash again. “You said you won’t go to your knees for me to f*ck your mouth, and I’ve already had your p*ssy. Your tits aren’t going to quite do it for me today, so that leaves only one option. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a cock buried in your ass. Based on the fear in your eyes and the way your pulse is hammering in your neck, I’d swear the answer is no.”

I shake my head, refusing to let him make me feel like there’s something wrong with me for not trying anal. “And I’m not going to today either.”

“Willingly,” he repeats, and I want to take back the promise I made.

Mount snaps the lid closed and shoves the box toward me. My hands instinctively close around the edges, and I step out of his reach.