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nikethestatue · 2 years

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The Kings’ Wife

Part IV

Ruhn’s Turn

Elain and Ruhn spend a day together. It's his turn.

(Pervasive language and explicit sexual content)

She transformed completely in his hands. Animal like, desperate, perverse and greedy. She closed her eyes and held on for dear life as he tenderly led her into his darkness, into pleasure.

Deep in his realm she became insatiable.

Elain was bent over a leather seat, naked.

“How does it feel, beautiful?” Ruhn asked, running his hand over her tender flesh and wiping her buttock.

“Mmm,” she huffed, “it’s not too bad…”

His breath was fluttering over the her thighs, her heated, aching sex, her ass.

“You like it though,” he smirked, “you are all wet for me.”

Of course, Ruhn made her not only bend over the seat, but also spread her legs, so she was stretched before his eyes, her pussy flooding with every painful prick of the needle. He was right–it felt amazing. Elain was biting her hand, trying to stifle her moans, while the buzzing of his needle reverberated over her whole body.

He’d brought her here, explaining what was around them, as they walked. The four buildings that surrounded their home all belonged to them–the one that they walked through after the wedding was their main office, King Enterprises–a soaring skyscraper, in which they ran their empire. On the other side, there was a hotel–Hotel Royale (not very inventive in the name department to be sure), in which the brothers had their own penthouses. Apparently, that’s where they used to bring women and live part-time. The hotel was a big money-maker for them, luxurious and exclusive, catering to a wealthy clientele. According to Ruhn, who held her hand as they walked, they’d never brought anyone to the house, since it was secret and no one except their guards, their closest confidants and her ever entered the premises. The third building was a more industrial one–old brick, ancient iron fire escape–it was a converted former bottling operation–which now housed a restaurant, where the brothers liked to conduct their more intimate business, as well as a boxing gym, and a tattoo shop, where Ruhn worked when he wasn’t running a huge security operation or killing people.

There were a lot of secret doors with codes and scanners that they had to go through, but finally, they were in the tattoo shop, which was bustling with clients and artists. Everything paused for a moment, when Ruhn entered, the looks that he got reverential and amazed. As Elain would later find out, he was one of the best tattoo artists in the world, and came up with his own unique style which was hard to reproduce. Hence the wait to get him to tattoo someone was at least six months long. Before they entered, he’d dropped her hand, as they’d agreed upon, and she was just a slightly-disheveled client, wearing a wrinkled summer dress, and untamed wild hair, while not looking at all like the typical receiver of a King tattoo.

He took her to the back, where a number of private rooms were located, for clients who wanted tats on more intimate parts of their bodies, or who were getting piercings in weird places. They entered a spacious, well-lit room with very large windows and the moment the door closed, Ruhn was on her, his large, very tall, very sharply cut body pressing her into the wall, her face between his hands, as he smashed his lips into hers. Elain’s hot eager hands slipped under his shirt and she ran them over his thickly-muscled back, moaning softly into his mouth, as his tongue battled with hers for dominance and overtaking hers at once.

“Hi wife,” he laughed, pulling away at last, stroking her head.

“Hi, my husband,” she smiled at him.

He laughed again and then snapped his fingers and said, “now let’s get you naked and bend over.”

“Well, that’s romantic,” she giggled, and he waved his hand, stating, “when you are with me, I want to see everything. I want the titties bouncing,” and he squeezed her breasts tightly, to demonstrate. “I want to see the pink pussy, and your gorgeous ass. So, off!”

She was shaking her head, but raised her arms up in the air, while he pulled her dress off.

“Leave romance for Az,” he shrugged. “With me, you don’t get romance–you get hot fucking, you get your ass anal-yzed, and you get adventures.”

“I like all those things,” she confessed, standing naked in front of him.

She wasn’t sure if the windows were tinted, because they were low enough that someone who was curious could technically see inside.

“Good! Because you are going to get all of them with me.”

He nodded to the leather recliner and asked, “are you sure?”

“I am sure,” she said confidently, her back straight. He looked at her, taking in her gorgeous body, all the creamy sinful curves and smiled to himself.

“You know,” he said, running his thumb over his lower lip, his eyes drinking her in, “I wasn’t looking to get married–ever. And then Az was told by our asshole dad that he’d arranged for Az to marry you. And Az–he is duty bound. But not me. I thought it was bullshit and we are not in some medieval village, where we have to unite clans to stop internal conflict and shit like that. I'd rather fucking fight, if there is a war!”

Elain chuckled, and he continued,

“But then I saw you. In that freakin’ cobalt dress. And I thought–this is my Queen. This is the one I was to marry. This woman is going to be Elain fucking King and no one else was more deserving to carry our name. And here you are–my wife,” he stroked her cheek tenderly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Elain’s eyes were large and damp with emotion. “And I am happy. For once, I am fucking happy, Ellie, because you are with us and you are ours and it’s like a whole new world that opened up for us. It’s thrilling and exciting. And I’ll own you, baby. But you will own me too.”

She took his hand and put it under her breast, where her heart was beating strong and fast.

“I’ll ruin your tight little body with my dick, El,” he promised, “because I am a kinky bastard and you are so ripe for the taking and the ruining.”

“Give me your heart, Ruhn,” she murmured softly, “and you can have my body. And my heart.”

“My heart is already yours, sweetheart,” he confessed. “It ain’t love yet, but we’ll get there.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, hottie, I promise,” he chuckled. “Now, get your lush ass over to the chair. Bend over, scoot to the very edge, so your hips press into the seat.”

Elain did as she was told, striding to the chair, and lying over it, while Ruhn rolled over on a stool and pulled on a pair of black gloves. He propped her leg onto the chair, so that the angle was even more explicit and she turned to look at him, wondering, “is that necessary?”

He slapped her asscheek and laughed, saying, “Absolutely not! But I really like seeing you bent over like that. You should get used to it anyway,” he shrugged, as he started to prep his machine, “I like my girls on their fours, better yet with their hands tied, asses up in the air, and just taking it.” He squeezed her hips, then her buttocks and said, “I like a good grip. Press my thumbs in these cute dimples above your ass,” and he demonstrated it, “pull you on my dick and go for a nice, long ride.”

He smacked his lips and muttered, “but honest to god, your pussy is a stunner! It’s so plump and juicy–like a good steak. You want to just get into it and just ram it into complete submission.”

“You like to dominate?” she wondered, interested and curious.

He had to remind himself that she wasn’t familiar with anything, and he’d have to be patient and explain things to her. In fact, he was actually amazed that she’s gone as far as she has with the three of them. He was amazed that she was bare in front of him. He was amazed that he was allowed to touch her and she didn’t pull away.

“Fuck yeah…I like to have girls cry for my dick. The need to dominate–it’s potent. Some philosopher said that the ‘essence of a female is to submit’--i don't really believe in that in real life, I like my women strong and independent of me, so I don’t have to babysit anyone, but in bed–you submit to me, and I’ll make you feel insanely good!”

She’d asked him to immortalize Azriel’s mark on her flesh and Ruhn agreed. He’d offered to tattoo the imprint of Azriel’s teeth on her thigh, using a special blend of ink, which would set pale, and almost flesh-coloured.

“Here we go,” he announced, “relax and tell me if it gets too much,” and began the work.

Elain found the process surprisingly painful, and surprisingly arousing too. It was probably more painful than usual due to the actual injury that Azriel had caused with his teeth, over which Ruhn was now tattooing, but she loved feeling the needle poke into her skin.

“How come you are a virgin?” he asked, making small talk. “You are incredibly attractive.”

“You don’t know why?”

“I really don’t. Is it because of the marriage thing?”

She said,

“The old dons decided that the girls of their families would be virgins until marriage. So there would be no potential questions about paternity. The only thing that was agreed upon for the women was that they wouldn't be married off to the old guys…We have to be within the same generation.”

“So no one played with you ever?” he smirked.

“No.”

There was a pause, interrupted only by the machine and the noises from the outside and inside the studio. Being completely naked here, with her ass up and her pussy spread, felt strangely erotic, considering that anyone could enter or see her from the street.

“I wasn’t supposed to have married Az, you know,” she said after a beat.

“Hmm, really? I did think it was a bit sudden,” he agreed. “A month from meeting to wedding–not a lot of time,” he kissed her butt cheek absently, “was there someone else then?”

She sighed.

“Yes. I was supposed to have been married into the Nolan clan,”

Ruhn squinted, trying to put the names together in his head, and then said, “Shit, not Graysen?”

“Yes, Graysen.”

“Why the hell would you want to marry that Irish motherfucker?”

She laughed at the bluntness and he added, “he is about as exciting as a boiled potato,”

“I like boiled potatoes.”

“You should’ve married him then, huh…” he suggested. “Why didn’t you? Why Az?”

She shrugged and didn’t answer.

He waited, but she didn’t answer.

“Elain?” he prodded at last.

“I was scared,” she admitted.

“Scared? Or Graysen? And you weren’t scared of Az?” he asked, incomprehension written all over his face.

“I think Graysen might have been…violent,” she explained.

Swiftly, Ruhn grabbed her chin and turned her face to him.

His luminous blue eyes were ablaze, dark with fury.

“Did that fuck hurt you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But he was disrespectful. And I think he would’ve hurt me if we were married. So, to my father’s horror and protests, I refused. I haven't refused anything before, but that…I refused,”

Ruhn kissed her. Hard.

“You are a good, smart girl. Never forget to stand up for yourself. Not because Graysen is a dumb violent cocksucker, but because you knew what you needed. In your heart,” he put his hand back to her chest, “you knew. That you belong to us, with us. We were your destiny. But if anyone ever lays a fucking finger on your golden head, then they lose the hand. And if anyone ever says a word against you, they lose their tongue. That’s a promise.”

“Thanks Ru,” she said seriously.

“Sure thing, hottie. You can count on us. So how did you settle on Az?”

“I didn’t. I mean, I’ve heard the name of course–who hasn’t heard of the Kings? But father thought that he’d been too big a fish to catch. We aren’t on the same level as you guys,”

Ruhn smirked and returned to the tattoo.

“But then, Az agreed to meet. At first, father wanted him with Nesta,”

At that, Ruhn choked and pressed a little too hard on the skin, making her wince.

“Nesta?” he gasped and Elain laughed. Ruhn slapped her ass and ordered, “don’t laugh. I’ll make a crooked line!”

“Who cares? It’s not like anyone is going to see it other than the three of you,”

“Damn right it will be just the three of us!” he slapped her again and nodded proudly, then massaging the pain away. “But I still want my work to be first rate. And fuck me, and nothing against your sister, but she is one tough broad. She isn’t Az’s style or type at all. They would have eaten each other alive.”

“Probably,” Elain agreed, stifling her laughter. Ruhn added,

“He only appears chill. In real life, he can bring his fist down like nobody’s business.”

“I think we are done!” he wiped her and disinfected the work. Then he took a mirror and showed her the tattoo.

“Oh my god! Ru! It’s beautiful!”

Elain gasped, wide-eyed.

It wasn’t just Azriel’s teeth–but between the imprints of his jaws, Ruhn added the King crest–the K, the flowers, the daggers.

“I…I can’t believe it,” she kept muttering, wiggling her hips every which way, to get a better look.

“I take it you like it?” he smirked.

“I do! Oh, it’s so beautiful! It’s perfect!”

He stroked her ass and said, “now my pretty girl, relax and take a finger, alright?”

Elain licked her lips and looked at him over her shoulder, while he winked at her, “We have to start stretching you a bit…Az’s dick is no joke.”

She blanched and whispered, “how big?”

“He’s got a full ten incher…maybe a tad more.”

She gasped, and murmured, “You have a nine,”

“Well, technically, I have a ten incher too,” he argued innocently. “But it sounds better if I say nine before a girl takes me in her ass.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you!” she rolled her eyes.

Ruhn pulled his gloves off and licked his lips in anticipation, immediately gingerly spreading her opening with his thumbs, as Elain trembled and blushed intensely.

“Relax, darlin',” he urged her, “I want to fill you up and see how you take my fingers and then we’ll play with your clitty as well.”

“Oh…okay,” she breathed, while Ruhn’s thick long finger probed slowly and dipped inside of her. The invasion felt strange, but pleasant, though she felt very full at once, without him moving or reaching very deep.

“How does that feel?” he wondered, kissing her tiny puckering anus, “you are fucking tight!!” he groaned.

“I am a virgin,” she reminded him with a pleased inhale, because he began to move his finger in and out, slowly, carefully, with measured strokes.

“Ah, and I am loving that you are!” he laughed, “such nice, tight pussy. And I am the only one who's ever been inside!”

“Is Az going to beat your ass for that?” she chuckled, though her eyes fell closed and she moved her hips against his finger, wanting more penetration.

“Possibly. But it’s totally worth it,” he decided. “You moving your ass on my finger, so you can take more–priceless!”

“Ruhn, deeper,” she whined, “I want more!”

He swirled the digit inside of her wetness, pushing at the walls of her sex, spreading her, all the while pumping in and out.

“Ooh, there it is!” he whooped excitedly.

“What is?”

“Your hymen. We’ll leave that for Az, I think,” he laughed and then ordered her firmly, “flip back and sit down, baby. Let’s do this for real,”

He withdrew from her and Elain turned and sat down on the recliner, trembling with anticipation.

He watched her and then commanded, “lean back on your elbows. Legs–spread.”

Elain did as instructed, though she still felt very shy being that exposed and being face to face with him.

“Very good…You are going to take two fingers now, okay?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Don’t close your eyes, I want you to watch me. You may look down and see who is fingering your pussy, got it?”

She nodded again.

“I’ll take you however I want to, and you’ll take it all,” he warned. “Spread wider. I want to see inside of you. I want your hole nice and open for me.”

Elain did as commanded, and Ruhn watched with a satisfied smile, “Now, hands under and on your ass, and spread it for me too,” he instructed further. “I want to see your other hole as well. Depending on how I feel, I may finger you in there as well,”

“Ruhn,” she began saying, but he interrupted and warned, “I only want to hear two words from you–’please’ and ‘more’. Are you going to be a good girl and do all of this for me?”

She nodded, her eyes wide.

He readied her lazily, sliding his finger up and down, from her clit to her anus, watching her watch him. Without warning, he thrust his index finger into her, all at once and she gasped, licking her lips, while his other hand snaked up her belly, and he squeezed her breast, before flicking her puffy nipple, which was very swollen from the previous bout of intense sucking. Elain looked down at her breast, but he wrapped his hand around her throat, murmuring, “what did I say?”

“Sorry,” she chirped, raising her eyes back to his face, watching his stunning face shyly. He left his hand wrapped around her throat, anchoring himself, and she squeezed his wrist, holding it there, while he worked his finger inside of her without stopping, pushing and swirling, while he winked and said, “doing well, pretty girl. Now we are going to add another. This will be tighter.”

His middle finger slipped into her, aided by the wetness that was dripping from her hole, and he was right–it was very tight. Uncomfortable now. Elain inhaled nervously, wiggling her hips to escape the pressure, but he only pushed further. She winced, biting her lower lip painfully, but he said sternly, “I haven’t heard you say anything yet? Why?”

He thrust even harder, and she groaned with discomfort and pleasure, grabbing at his wrist, a pained look on her face.

“I am waiting, darling,” he urged.

“More,” she whispered weakly, “please.”

“No problem! I love fingering,” he grinned and winked at her again, his long hair sliding over her breasts and belly, tickling her. “Let’s get this pussy working for me!”

And that’s when Ruhn began drilling her in earnest. He slammed hard into her tender, tight opening, stretching her after each thrust, opening her up, his finger disappearing inside of her completely.

Elain felt dizzy, shaking and swaying between him and the seat, propelled by the strength of his thrusts, his thick, muscular arm like a battering ram inside of her. “Moan,” he told her, because she’d been stifling her cries. There were people milling outside the doors, in the shop and people were walking outside on the street, and here she was, getting fingered, as if this was Ruhn’s full time job and he was looking to earn a monthly bonus. He was aggressive and harsh, his hand absolutely relentless, and no matter how she tried to squirm out of it, he brought her back with his fingers again and again.

“Oh my god, ohmygod, Ruhn…” she cried, head thrown back, as she was unable to look at him, her eyes shut, a grimace of utter pleasure and pain written over her lovely face.

“That’s right, beautiful, say my name,” he urged, his hand wet and sopping with her juices, his hand knuckles-deep inside of her.

“Ruhn,” she gritted, “Ruhn…I…can’t,”

“Of course you can,” he slapped her pussy, hitting the clit and she bobbed up in the chair, crying out loud. “What are your words?”

“More,” she wept from the pressure, just on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, which he consistently managed to pull back from her just a little bit.

“Good. What else?”

“Please…Ruhn…Please. Please,” she begged pathetically.

“What do you want me to do?” he inquired casually, like his hand wasn’t half-fisting her hole. “Be specific…what do you like?”

“It hurts,” she panted desperately, “but it’s good…oh god, it’s so deep,” she was just about screeching now, as he dug deeper and added yet more power to his stroke. Then, she pleaded, “smack it…like you did before.”

“Ahh,” he cocked his brow, “you liked that?!”

He slapped her soaking slit, without pausing the thrusting of his fingers, and she shuddered violently, moaning with blissful enjoyment.

Ruhn’s been with too many women and had done too many things to ever contemplate judging anyone’s preferences and desires. Even if Elain hadn’t struck him as someone who’d enjoy the rougher side of things and a little bit of pain, here she was, pleasantly surprising him.

He slapped her clit again and again, loving the feel of her inner walls tightening around his fingers every time he did it.

“More, please,” she requested politely and eagerly, starting to move on his hand herself, fucking herself on him.

“Good girl,” he approved, “use me.”

She winced and grunted, but didn’t stop.

“You are stretching me so much…you can’t slam into me so hard!” she protested feebly.

“Do you want to tell me ‘jasmine’ then?” he rammed her with unstoppable force, in and out, in and out, and she shook her head in a panic.

“No! No!” she was twitching and crying, “no, don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop!”

“So you want me to use your hole just as hard as I am doing?” he clarified with his insufferable smirk on that sensual mouth. The tip of his tongue played with his lip ring, while he pinched her nipple.

“Yes, yes!” she screamed, jerking upright, as her climax slammed into her like a hurricane. She grabbed at his arms, his neck, scratching him, pushing at him, but he was completely unstoppable–a mountain of raw sexual power. “Use my pussy,” she begged, tears running down her red face, “use all of me, just don’t stop…please! More!”

He wrapped his hand around her throat again and jammed two fingers in her mouth, making her suck, which she did, holding on to that hand with a tight grip, while she orgasmed over his hand, her passage tightening and clenching over his fingers, her wild moans stifled by the fingers in her mouth.

That’s how Azriel found them, when he opened the door and slid inside the room noiselessly.

Elain was completely naked, arched on the leather seat, her legs somewhere up in the air, Ruhn’s hand buried inside of her stretched-out hole, her hair a messy wave that spread all over the chair, perky tits bouncing heavily as he banged into her savagely. Ruhn was a demanding and rough lover, someone who attracted women with his wild, untamed ways and his precise, cold requirements–but many who wanted to come and experience his searing flame often came out burnt after the encounter.

It seemed that he wasn’t inclined to change his demanding, dominating ways with Elain whatsoever. Hence the absolutely pornographic scene of her being nearly choked, with three of his fingers in her mouth pumping quickly and harshly, and in unison with the three fingers with which he was attacking her pussy. She was slurping on his digits with both of her holes, sputtering and squeezing him.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Azriel growled, watching Elain’s big brown eyes fly open with alarm and embarrassment.

Ruhn though didn’t bother slowing down, and drilled her tender opening in a persistent, methodically unwavering rhythm.

“Oh, hi brother!” he said jovially, “fancy seeing you here!”

Then, demonstratively, he pulled his fingers out of her mouth and amorously squeezed her flopping breasts with his wet hand, pulling on her nipples.

Azriel crossed his arms on his chest, his face an unreadable mask, and Elain squirmed in her chair, somehow attempting to cover something, but failing miserably.

“What are you doing?” Ruhn asked sternly and pinched her nipple painfully, until she yelped, “are we done?”

“I…I don’t know,” she panted, colouring prettily with pink blushes.

“And what might you be doing?” Azriel inquired dryly.

“Lightly fingering my girlfriend-slash-secret-wife,” Ruhn announced with a shrug. “Her pussy is very sweet and she enjoys getting it stretched,”

“Oh my god,” she squealed. “Shut up!” She hit him with her foot for good measure.

“I asked for one fucking thing!” Azriel grunted. “ One !”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruhn leaned over and licked Elain’s mouth. “Nothing inside the pussy until His Majesty deems it acceptable,”

Azriel snarled softly, “Oh, fuck off,”

“Don’t worry, I left the hymen all intact for you. She’ll bleed over your dick nice and well. You may wave that sheet around as evidence,”

“Also, light fingering ?” Azriel came closer, his eyes fixed on her hole, which was filled with Rhuhn’s hand, “it looks like you are near-fisting her!”

“Our girl likes it nice and hard,” Ruhn smiled with satisfaction. “Don’t you sweetheart?”

Her eyes darted between the brothers, both of whom were fully dressed, in control, unbothered, while she was a naked mess in front of her, all swollen and leaking from every orifice, her pussy relentlessly pumped with Ruhn’s hand.

“I guess as punishment for disobeying my order,” Azriel said lightly, as if he was discussing the weather, “first anal will be with me too.”

“Absolutely not!” Ruhn snarled, “our girl wants me to pop her anal cherry. Don’t you, darling?”

“I…what?” he mumbled, not knowing how to answer.

“See, she wants me to do it!” was Ruhn’s logical conclusion. Elain couldn’t help herself, because he was still inside of her, and it felt amazing and she moaned, her head thrown back.

“Darling,” Ruhn kissed her briefly, “I’ll have Az take over, if it’s all the same to you. My cock feels like it’s a prisoner of war, and is about to bust out of my jeans and make good its escape.”

He slowly pulled out of her, making her back arch deeply and a long, low moan ripped from her lips. The loss of his hand felt terrible. She was empty and aching, her core pulsating with angry impatience.

“I can’t believe you put your fingers inside of her,” Azriel grunted under his breath.

Ruhn grinned smugly and then wiggled his tattooed fingers which glistened in the light of day and moaned, “And she feels amazing. Bet she tastes even better.”

Azriel licked his lips, a soft growl escaping his lips at the scent of Elain’s arousal so close to him and Ruhn decided, “Tell you what, big fella, since I beat you to it by actually touching her, how about you get the first taste?”

Wide-eyed, Elain, who was still spread out on the leather recliner and propped on her elbows, watched as Ruhn jammed his fingers into Azriel’s mouth, and Azriel licked and sucked her slick off Ruhn’s hand.

“Tastes good?” Ruhn smiled knowingly, nodding his approval, as Azriel’s eyes rolled back and he nodded, licking every bit of her until he finally released Ruhn’s fingers from his mouth with an audible pop.

“Tastes fucking amazing,” Azriel ground out.

“I made our girl come twice,” Ruhn informed him proudly, “without touching her clit once.”

Azriel gently squeezed her throat, in a manner very similar to his brother, and stooped down, dragging his tongue over her plump swollen lips. Elain was panting beneath him, her naked breasts rising and falling rapidly.

“Did you like having your husband make you come, sweetheart?” he whispered.

She nodded desperately, biting her lips, then his.

“And what do you want now?”

“I want more,” she begged, unabashedly, opening her legs for him and taunting him with her pink, glistening slit.

“Alright then,” Azriel decided benevolently and with one easy, assured move, he sunk two fingers inside of her. Elain threw her head back, crying out loud.

His finger felt differently from Ruhn’s–even better, if it were possible. Ruhn’s were thicker, but Azriel’s were longer and scarred, offering her extra sensations with their bumps and ridges, the uneven, harsh skin scraping along the walls of her passage. She howled with pleasure, as he began to fuck her firmly, ordering, “watch me” as he plunged in and out of her sopping passage. Her tits shook and plopped in heavy waves, while he stroked her jaw with his thumb, watching her and his hand, which disappeared almost entirely within her.

“How’s that silky pussy?

Elain jerked her head to him and her breath hitched, as her eyes widened at the sight of the emergence of Ruhn’s cock. He took it out of his jeans and she licked her lips, as her cheeks flooded crimson, and sweat broke out all over her body.

“Have you never seen a dick, love?” Ruhn smiled, coming closer and allowing her a full view.

“It’s not a bad dick to see the first time,” Azriel approved, smirking at her shocked face.

“It’s huge!” she shrieked, dismayed. Nine inches her ass! It was an elephant dick, she was sure of it. Even within the grasp of Ruhn’s massive hand, his cock stood enormous and proud. The cut pink head glistened and Elain spied two piercings–one on his scrotum, and another, and she wasn’t even sure if it was a piercing, was a ring that wrapped around the thick head, with three little beads on it.

“Oh, yes, darlin’,” Ruhn grinned, watching her, “it will feel very nice when it’s in your pussy. They hit all the right spots,” his hand worked his cock smoothly, knowingly, squeezing hard. She noted that he only managed to fist it comfortably, and she’d certainly require two hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Elain managed to compliment it innocently, and both men smiled at her.

Ruhn put his available hand on her breasts, squeezing them hard, and then flicked her nipples, until she yelped from pain, licking her lips hungrily, unable to tear her eyes off his mammoth member.

“I reckon our baby is ready and wanting some D,” Ruhn laughed, jerking his dick hard, as it dribbled precum over his hand.

“Come on her tits,” Azriel ordered bluntly.

“Of course I will! I will claim these pretty titties as my own,” Ruhn promised darkly, coming closer to Elain’s face, and offering her a full view of his shaft, which bulged with veins, worked rapidly within his tattooed fingers.

“Alright to come on your titties?” he confirmed and she nodded eagerly. “Let’s do this together, love,” he suggested. “Pump her harder,” he told Azriel, “I want us to come together.”

Azriel pushed her all the way on her back, parting her knees wider and allowed his hand to slide roughly into her, while Ruhn rubbed his cock above her heaving breasts.

It only took a few more hard pulls and pushes and Elain’s back arched wildly, as she bounced up, squeezing Azriel’s hips between her legs, and watching Ruhn’s cock jerk and splatter long ropes of cum on her breasts. He groaned with pleasure, squeezing her breast tightly, while she trembled with her orgasm, pulling Azriel closer to her.

“Boys,” she gasped. “Oh my god…”

“Flower, you look beautiful, when you come,” Azriel complimented her, as he kissed her lips. “Now, sweetheart, taste it,” he grabbed her other breast and pushed it up to her lips. Elain looked between the two men and then licked her own nipple, sucking off the semen.

It tasted…good. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it was nice? Was nice the right word for it? She’d been apprehensive, thinking about it, having read fanfiction and about ‘swallowing’ and tasting it, and here she was, actually tasting it and swallowing. And it was pleasant and intimate and she licked her breast again, tasting more of it.

“You like it, love?” Ruhn drew his knuckles over her cheek, swirling his finger in the mess on her breasts and feeding it to her, and then Azriel did the same. He clearly didn’t mind the cum, didn’t care that it wasn’t his. Just enjoyed Elain licking his and Ruhn’s fingers.

“It’s good!” she said with a nod.

“I brought you a change of clothes,” Azriel nodded to a bag that he left by the door. “I figured that…well, maybe that you need it.”

Ruhn winked at her and pulled her up, saying, “Show Az your new tat!”

Elain turned around eagerly and stuck her perky ass at Azriel, modelling the new ink.

“Wha-,” Azriel gasped.

“Fuck, Ruhn!” he exclaimed. “This is…you’ve outdone yourself, my man! It’s,”

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?!” she cried excitedly.

He gently caressed the swollen, red flesh, cupping it and nodded, looking at the exquisite work that his brother had done. The outline of his teeth was rendered perfectly, forever imprinted on Elain’s pale, lovely behind, her skin forever marked with him.

His teeth and the King’s crest–it was perfect. Simply perfect.

Ruhn squeezed Azriel’s shoulder affectionately and said, “A wedding present for you, brother. Enjoy it.”

“Where are we going?”

Elain squinted at the sun once they emerged from the dark, cavernous building that housed the tattoo shop. Ruhn plopped dark sunglasses on and took her by the hand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked instead.

She thought and then said honestly, “okay”.

He looked at her, his face serious and cupped her cheek, pressing, “What hurts?”

Somehow, he knew. And Elain did not feel the need to lie to him. Ruhn took life as it was, warts and all, and it seemed to Elain that he required no ‘prettifying’ of anything.

“The tattoo hurts a little,” she explained, and he nodded. Then she thought, assessing her body, the state of it, and admitted, “my nipples definitely ache. But I like it,”

He smiled and they resumed their walk, his huge tattooed hand dwarfing hers. But he held on.

Ruhn King wasn’t one for displays of affection. He has no problem getting women on their backs for him, but having them come back? Not likely. He’s never even had an honest to god girlfriend. When Fenrys was complaining about the same thing last night, Ruhn didn’t want to admit it to himself, or out loud, but he was in the same position. However, whereas Fenrys craved love and wanted to both give and receive it, still hopeful, still yearning for that one woman to come and make his dreams come true, and not use him for money or expensive gifts or celebrity access, Ruhn was well past those childish dreams. Truthfully, he never even had them in the first place. He never imagined himself with one woman, with someone who’d be devoted to him, for whatever reason, or someone he’d desire ardently enough to reconsider his wicked ways.

This absolutely bizarre woman who was now holding his hand, threw him so far outside of his usual orbit that it made his head spin. Only a month since meeting her and all of 4-5 actual interactions before the wedding, and he didn’t know what was happening with his head and his heart. He didn’t lie to her–he wasn’t in love with her, but she swept him off his feet without even trying.

“What else?” his thumb ran circles over her delicate hand.

She shrugged,

“Inside, it feels a little strange, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, good.”

He glanced at her. The recently-messy hair was re-tied into a long ponytail, under the pretty floral top–because it wouldn’t be Elain without a pretty floral top–her soft full breasts bounced with every step. The knee-length skirt floated around her hips.

“You look like a lollipop,” he smirked. “Something I want to lick and lick and lick,”

She flushed and smiled at him. A genuine, lovely grin that he came to dream about.

“How are you three so horny?” she pondered, amused. “All I’ve heard in the past 5-7 years is how the King boys are to stay away from. How they go through women like they go through spaghetti dinners–quickly, hungrily and it’s just a one-time-only kind of a thing.”

“And look at you now,” Ruhn lit a cigarette, moving with a purposeful stride. He was only one man, but it felt like crowds parted around him, and Elain was never bumped into and never touched by anyone. It was…amazing? She’d never experienced being with someone who dominated his own space so competently and so completely. He was truly a king. Even if he looked like a punk kid, with his long hair and tattoo sleeves and many piercings, the aura of authority and unflinching self-confidence permeated the air around him. He walked and the others only followed. Elain wondered if he was aware, or if this has been so ingrained in him that he didn’t expect anything else.

“Being had by the very same Kings,” he smirked.

“I haven’t been had by anyone just yet,” she reminded him with a cock of her brow.

“As far as I recall, I came on your fine tits and had you come all over my hand–twice,”

At that, Elain blushed and dropped her eyes to the ground.

It wasn’t even noon yet, and she’s had five orgasms today.

“Sooo, sounds to me like you’ve been had, lollipop.”

She was so cute when she was shy, and he wanted to kiss her. Kissing her was pure joy–like opening up Christmas presents in childhood. Oh wait, he didn't really have much experience with that, but he’d imagine that that would be what it would feel like.

“But we aren’t generally horny,” he shrugged. “I think we’ve gotten that out of the system in the past decade. I mean, I can’t vouch for Fen, but Azriel and I…” he thought for a moment and whistled, “I don’t think that Azriel has been with anyone for a good part of this year. At least not that I remember–he’d never mentioned anyone and hasn’t been seen with anybody. I think all these matrimonial plans have been stressing him out,” Ruhn chuckled. “There were a lot of proposals and negotiations with different families.”

He let go of her hand and instead, squeezed the back of her neck, the gesture both possessive and proprietary. He wanted all these people to see the two of them, especially the men–wanted all of them to know that she was his. That this freshly fucked beauty, with her amazing ass and full tits was his, and he staked his claim on her and it was he, who’d made her come and scream and wail.

“I was surprised,” he confessed, “when dad and Az settled on the Archerons. I think he likes Fey well enough and figured that maybe you were more like her, and not Nesta…”

Elain smiled, shaking her head.

Ruhn’s heavy hand rested on the back of her neck, and he stroked her skin with his thumb slowly.

“Now though,” he added, “we are just horny for you. Our beautiful fiery little virgin!”

Elain smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

He knew that the two of them looked like an odd pair–the radiant Elain, dressed like the flower girl that she was, and he–dark and gloomy, inked and savage in appearance and temperament. But it didn’t matter, because she was his regardless. It didn’t matter what he was and what he looked like, because Elain was in his arms.

Initially, he was a little worried, jealous even, of Azriel, and of Fenrys. It was absolutely clear that with Azriel, Elain had an instant connection. For whatever reason, it was there. The moment their eyes met, Ruhn and Fenrys both felt a jolt that extended from being in the presence of Elain and Azriel. It was powerful, as it was obvious. Therefore, Azriel has no problem romancing his future wife. Besides, he was the only one between the three of them who’s had a long-term relationship before. It ended badly, with Morrigan’s car exploding, with Morrigan inside of it. It was a miracle that Azriel survived–the bomb was meant for him, of course, but he went back to the house to grab her coffee, which she had forgotten on the counter.

That’s how the War of the Six Families started–and it lasted for six years, until earlier this year, when the dons finally gathered together and began negotiations and matchmaking. And here they were, with Elain Archeron becoming Elain King.

Then there was Fenrys.

It was easy to love Fenrys. The blond exuberant psycho was a charmer, especially with the ladies. There was the disarming smile, the bountiful energy, the devastatingly handsome face, the swagger, the seductive voice and the teasing sense of humour. The whole package. Plus, of course, the penchant for brutality, which was dispensed easily and indiscriminately.

Elain was expected to fall for Fenrys, and she did. No surprises there.

But Ruhn–Ruhn wasn’t suave and powerful like Azriel, or irreverently engaging and funny like Fenrys. Ruhn Danaan King was the muscle behind the operation. He was cunning and smart and ruthlessly efficient, and savage. So when Fenrys began flirting with Elain, and Azriel only had to say one or two words to bend her to his will, Ruhn thought that he might be out of his depth with her. He didn’t expect her to like him at all, and was resigned to be just a guy who hung around the house, a brother-in-law at best.

Yet, here they were today, together. And he was the very first one who had been inside Elain. The first one whose cock she’d seen. The first one to claim her with his seed. He’d made her his without even anticipating it–he’d marked her with his ink, just like Azriel marked her with his teeth. She was his Mrs. King just as much as Azriel’s.

“So, where are we going?” she asked, her big brown eyes inquisitive as ever, as she took on the surroundings.

Ruhn dropped his hand from her neck to her waist and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“I figured that I’ll show you something that I like. And then you can show me something that you like.”

“Hmmm, that’s fun!” she declared. “But I am hungry. Let’s eat first.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “let’s eat.”

Subway.

“Subway?” Elain muttered, faced with the glass counter of various mystery meats and fading vegetables.

“Anything on the menu, my lady!” Ruhn announced magnanimously. “Go wild.”

“Well then,” she whistled under her breath.

“You could even get double meat!” he suggested.

She muttered, “I think I am getting triple meat,” and at that, Ruhn laughed loudly.

“Aren't you a lucky girl?”

Elain indeed went wild with her selection and got a six inch sub with turkey and roast beef. Ruhn settled on tuna, which apparently was his favourite sandwich. It was Fanta for her, and a Diet Coke for him, and he shuddered at the neon orange colour of her drink.

They found a picnic table at some park nearby and sat down. As soon as Elain’s butt touched the bench, Ruhn pulled her to him and cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of her cheeks.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, looking at her with such earnest hunger, that her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

“I am right here,” she murmured and kissed the inside of his palm.

“And you’ll stay here,” he declared urgently, “forever. With me. Us.”

Gently, Elain assured him, “I am planning on it,”

“Even if we fuck up,” Ruhn’s voice was almost pleading, “because we will. We’ll inevitably fuck up, love.”

“I’ll fuck up too,” she laughed.

“And we’ll forgive you,” he promised, his tobacco scented lips brushing against hers. “But you’ll have to forgive us as well.”

He pressed his lips into hers then, kissing her like they haven’t kissed in months. He filled his hands with her breasts and kissed her in a way that was completely inappropriate for public consumption, but Elain already learned that Ruhn was not one for social graces or propriety. He gave absolutely no fucks about anything and lived immediately and with a heady, uncontrollable hunger, gulping every experience with ferocious zeal.

So he kissed and kissed her, mashing her breasts within the confines of her bra, squeezing and massaging, until she moaned and whimpered against him. Smoothing his hand over her head at last, he pulled away, and smiled at her.

“I gotta get some grub into my wife’s belly,” he decided. “Before she bites me.”

Elain cocked her brow and kissed him softly, “and you don’t want me to bite you?”

“Any time, love. The harder the better.”

“Noted.”

Elain unwrapped her sandwich, inhaling the scent specific to Subway. She and Ruhn toasted with their sandwiches and dug in.

“Oh Lord, this is the best sandwich ever!” she moaned.

He barked a laugh and said, “I knew it was gonna hit the spot, lollipop. Fucking makes you hungry, girl,”

“Good to know,” she sipped her orange drink. Then, after a moment of indulging in her sandwich, she asked, “Why do you think Azriel didn't want to sleep with me?”

Ruhn almost choked, and flipped his hair over his shoulder, while she rummaged in her purse and handed him a hair tie, “What do you mean he doesn’t want to sleep with you?”

“Last night,” she explained, chewing with gusto, stealing his chips, “he left me. And didn’t want to sleep with me…”

“Ahh,” Ruhn finally understood. He also understood who Azriel was so tense this morning, when he almost ran downstairs in only his knickers, not even bothering with a shirt or shoes.

Instead of answering, he shrugged and suggested, “Why don’t you sleep with him?”

She glanced at him, and then took a huge bite of her sandwich, chomping on it and looking sadly at how quickly it was disappearing.

He tsked, shaking his head, and said, “You should've gotten a footlong.”

Elain reached and wiped a bit of mayo off his lip, smiling at him and then licked it off her thumb.

“I like being married to you, Elain,” he said seriously. “Even if it’s been less than 24 hours. It’s been a very very good 18 hours.”

“Prove it?!” she demanded, laughing.

He tore a quarter of his sandwich, making a mess, and handed it to her nevertheless.

“I know you are still hungry. Eat more. That’s what husbands and wives do–they share.”

“I like being married to you too, Ruhn.”

“So, where are you taking me?”

They were back on the streets, walking and enjoying the sights, with Ruhn offering a tremendous amount of information to her about various buildings, building styles, how they changed over the centuries, what they housed, and who lived there.

“To a museum,” Ruhn said, a cigarette dangling from his lip.

“A museum?” she was surprised. “Which one? The Met?”

“No,”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a museum-lover,” she confessed, glancing at him with renewed interest–like he was someone she was seeing for the first time.

He winked at her and whispered in her ear, his lips brushing over the shell,

“Baby, you haven’t pegged me at all yet. But, it’s certainly on the menu.”

Elain’s eyes widened and he grinned wickedly and then bit her earlobe. While he enjoyed making the joke, it dawned on him,

“Do you even know what that means?”

“No,” she shook her head proudly. “I mean–it means ‘ assuming ’...what do you-,”

“Oh god,” he groaned, throwing his head back.

Ugh, she gave him a little annoyed pout and he tugged her to his side, kissing her hair.

“You’ll peg me, love,” he promised with a grin.

Too many women were ogling Ruhn for Elain’s comfort. Their hungry eyes skimmed over his towering muscular form, over the tight black shirt which clung to his abs and stretched around the powerful arms and his enormous shoulders. The fitted black jeans did little to de-emphasize the bulge of his prominent cock, and Elain noticed in the window reflection how some of these skanks checked out his ass, once he passed them. Ruhn didn’t seem too bothered by the attention. Perhaps he was used to it, just like Elain was somewhat used to the catcalls and interest in men’s eyes when they beheld her. But now,

“You are wearing a ring,” she hissed at him, and took his arm, in a gesture that was both submissive and possessive.

“What ring?” he wondered, confused.

“A wedding ring! That’s what ring!”

“Okay,” he agreed calmly. “You want me to wear a wedding ring?”

His chest swell with excitement at her request.

“Yes! You are mine,” she reminded him firmly. “So, you wear a wedding ring.”

“I will wear a wedding ring,” he confirmed with a nod.

He stopped in front of an elegant red and white mansion and Elain followed him inside.

She inquired, “What is this?”

“My favourite little museum,” he explained. “The Neue Galerie. Let’s go.”

They spent the next two hours looking at Ruhn’s favourite pieces, and Elain learned that he adored Egon Schiele and spoke of the artist with expertise and fondness, explaining how he related to his tormented darkness, his unruly nature, his talent and his untimely death.

Ruhn surprised Elain yet again, with his acute intelligence and his love of art. She realised that had he not been born and made into this life, with expectation for a violent and ruthless existence bred into him since he was a baby, Ruhn would’ve been an artist. His tattooing was his outlet, human skin–his canvass, his art a living, breathing thing on other people’s flesh. Perhaps, that’s how he preserved his own immortality.

“Now, for something special,” Ruhn grabbed her hand and whispered, “close your eyes’.

“Oh gosh, please don’t steal a painting or,” she begged softly and he laughed. Interrupting her with a kiss.

“I promise,” he said into her lips, “I am not stealing things. Not now, at least,”

“Nice.”

“Now, eyes closed!”

Elain did as she was told and closed her eyes, which he covered further with his heavy, wide palm. Within a few moments, he dropped his hand and murmured, excitement lacing his voice, “open up!”

Elain opened her eyes and smiled widely.

“A Woman in Gold,” she said.

“So you know,” he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

“She is exquisite,”

“You are exquisite as well,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you like her?”

She nodded, taking in the gilded painting, the opulence of it all, the gold that surrounded the sad-faced woman.

“You are my own golden beauty,” he said, reaching for her hand. He brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles in a most gentlemanly manner. “‘Always gilded by the sun.”

“Are you a romantic at heart after all, Mr. King?” Elain wondered with a smile.

“Only for Elain King,” Ruhn confessed. “Now, give me your little hand.”

He took her left hand and turned her to face him.

“I think you ought to wear my ring too, wife,” with that, Ruhn placed a slender diamond-encrusted band on her finger, just on top of an identical band that had married her to Azriel.

Azriel King was in a foul mood.

After Elain and Ruhn disappeared wherever they disappeared to, he felt no better than Fenrys. He was also despondent and unhappy, his attitude snappy, his disposition aggressive and he was dissatisfied with everything. His men felt it on their hides, when he’d met with his lieutenants and let them have it.

There’s been festering problems in the past few months, with their warehouses being attacked, shipments disappearing, and unfamiliar gangs encroaching on the King territory.

There were a few suspects–the Nolans and that fuckwit Graysen, who sampled a little too much of his own product, the Vanserras–an old family, with just about as many sons as the Kings, all vying for attention and power, warring between each other as well as the other families, and lastly, looming over all of them–the Salvaterre clan.

The Salvaterre were proper Italians, a ruthless camorra clan, which clawed its way to the top and was now setting their sights across the ocean. Money laundering and counterfeiting were their specialties, and you didn’t need to be on Italian soil to make that happen.

Azriel was a goddamn newlywed, and he wanted to act like a newlywed. He wanted to spend time with his new wife, he wanted to shower her with gifts and outings, he wanted to touch that sublime body and bury himself in her balls-deep. He wanted normal things and…Well, the taste of Elain’s sweet pussy plagued him the whole day today. He resented Ruhn–not only for getting inside that glorious pussy first, but for letting him suck his fingers. Now, he couldn’t get the taste, the scent, the sensation out of his mouth and out of his head. He’s been obsessing over it the whole day, and it wasn’t going to subside, of that he was sure.

He entered the house, and something in him soared with happiness and peacefulness, the moment he stepped inside and the air was awash with the delicious smell of garlic and rosemary and meat, and there was laughter, and music too. ABBA. ‘Dancing Queen’. In the middle of their giant open kitchen, he spied Fenrys and Elain, who stood side by side, legs spread, wooden spoons in their hands, acting as microphones, and them lip syncing to the song–pointing out to their imaginary audiences, wailing ‘onlyyyy seventeen-eennn…’

He couldn’t help but grin, as he pulled on his tie to loosen it.

These two definitely were the soulmates of cheesiness and ridiculousness.

“So, dinner and a show?” Azriel chuckled, interrupting them. Elain dropped her spoon and leapt into his arms with such speed, he barely held on. Laughing, he squeezed her in his arms, as she wrapped her legs around him and clutched at him with such desperation, you’d think they haven’t seen each other in months.

“That’s right, wife,” he laughed, “give your husband a kiss. Did you miss me?”

She cupped his face, while he cupped her plush ass, clad in another pair of yoga pants, which he figured would be the death of him one day. She looked at him with her big soft brown eyes and murmured, “I’ve missed you,” and then she kissed him tenderly.

“I’ve missed you too,” he admitted, as he walked around with her in his arms, kissing her insatiably.

“What should I do with this?” Fenrys called out from the kitchen, unbothered by the interruption, as he swung his hips, borderline pirouetting to the music, as he stirred something at the stove. “Also, your gross kissing is too much! It’s just a kiss ‘hello’, not a full on porno!”

Azriel ignored him, caressing and squeezing Elain’s tight ample buttocks in his hands, not bothering to interrupt his kissing of her vanilla-and-honey scented lips.

“Why don’t you just bend her over and put a baby in her,” Ruhn’s gravelly drawl came from the stairs, as he descended, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“I think that they are just jealous,” Azriel whispered into her lips, brushing his nose against hers, “and want to watch you on my dick.”

“Actually, I don’t want her on your dick,” Ruhn came over and brashly pulled her face to his, planting an impatient kiss on her already swollen mouth, “I want her on mine. Or, both of ours,”

“What am I?” Fenrys yelled from the kitchen, indignant, “chopped liver?”

Elain only laughed and then disengaged from the mountains of muscles that were surrounding her and said, “Alright lover boys, dinner is in fifteen minutes. Get ready, make yourselves useful, open wine bottles!”

Although Azriel released her, reluctantly, his hand still rested on her belly, as he followed her to the kitchen.

“It smells insanely good,” he muttered into her neck. “Did you cook?”

“Of course I cooked,” she nodded, stroking his cheek. “I roasted a chicken…well, two chickens, since I have three brawny men with me,”

“Elain,” Azriel interrupted her, and then turned her face to his. “You don’t have to cook for us,” he said seriously. “This is not…honestly, we don’t expect you to cook, or,”

“Az,” she interjected. “It’s my joy–cooking, flowers, baking.”

“I’d never take your joy away from you,” he said quickly, “but I just want to make sure that it’s not something that you think you have to do,”

“Listen, we’ll have nights when we’ll have pizza and beer, or Chinese takeout. But,” and she swallowed, looking a tad nervous, “if we are going to be a family, the four of us, then we have to be a family. Do family things–have our own rituals and gatherings. We aren’t roommates, who just come and go and sometimes have sex,”

“No, we are not,” he agreed immediately, understanding her desire perfectly well.

“You are the lady of the house, darlin’,” Ruhn materialized next to them, apparently having heard the whole conversation. “You set the rules.”

“By the way,” Azriel jerked his head towards Ruhn, “his hearing is insane. He hears everything, like a damn jaguar or something,”

“Good to know,” Elain laughed. “No planning surprise parties at the house then,”

The look of horror on Ruhn’s face at the mention of ‘surprise parties’ caused both of them to burst out laughing.

“Please no,” he moaned.

“But Ruhn is right,” Azriel agreed. “You are the lady of the house. You set up whatever rules you want to.”

It was nice.

Their first dinner as a family. The chickens that Elain had roasted were worthy of a magazine cover–deep mahogany brown, with a crispy skin, and succulent flesh. There was grilled lettuce, lightly roasted tomatoes, Parmigiano Reggiano, bread from Marcello’s –their restaurant around the corner. Fen opened two bottles of Chianti and the wine went down perfectly well with the chicken. They dined outside, on the terrace, in their garden.

It was a little surreal, to sit here, in this secret, secluded house that no one knew about, completely surrounded by buildings, and hearing the noise of the city somewhere in the distance, while here, it was an oasis of peace and calm.

“Elain, this chicken,” Fenrys was almost speechless, for once. Almost. “Honestly, even if I didn’t know you, I’d ask you to marry me just for the chicken!”

“I mean, it’s not as good as Subway, but it will do,” Elain laughed into her glass, glancing at Ruhn, while the other two whipped their heads in his direction, glaring at him.

“You took her to fucking Subway ??!” Azriel groaned.

Fenrys scrubbed his face and shook his head, speechless at last.

Ruhn only shrugged and said, “Subway is a fine establishment. The most popular franchise in the world, I’ll have you know. They must be doing something right!”

Elain reached for him and stroked his hand, “It was delicious,” she assured him. Unexpectedly, just as Ruhn placed more chicken on her plate, and Fenrys refilled her glass, she asked,

“So, gentlemen–the famous Kings–what is your business? What is the source of your power?”

The three men exchanged glances and somehow, quieted down.

Elain crossed her arms on her chest and looked at them all, her gaze challenging and not just a little bit annoyed.

“So what? I am not to know? The little woman is to sit at home and play with flowers?” she demanded. Squaring her shoulders, she added,

“I am part of this family now. And I will do what is expected of me.”

“El,” Fenrys began, his voice soothing and peaceful, but she snapped at him,

“Don’t even start! I am not some wild animal that needs to be spoken to carefully, lest she unleashes,”

“Docks–shipping and receiving,” Azriel said calmly, watching her steadily, as he sipped his wine. He continued, while Elain stared at him, “Construction, here and in Chicago. Some in LA and Miami. London too–we work with the English fuckers pretty closely. That’s a crazy bunch. We thought we were nuts, but that was until we met some of them. But we build all over the world–Nigeria, Asia, the Middle East. There is a lot of money to be had. And then, there is the usual stuff like local businesses–casinos, bars, clubs–minor shit.

“Primary sources of business–racketeering, loan-sharking, gambling, money laundering, drugs of course…everything gets funneled into the legitimate businesses, which are run by Rhys.”

“Rhys doesn’t get his hands dirty,” Fenrys chuckled.

“Does he know?” Elain inquired.

“Oh, he knows,” Ruhn nodded, smiling. “He and Az work closely together, to figure out our next steps and what would be most profitable,”

“And your father?” she asked then.

All three frowned and Azriel explained,

“Our father is…challenging. He is basically running his own outfit, side-by-side with ours, because he doesn’t want to relinquish power. We have,” he ran his tongue over his teeth, an outright sight of temper from him, “problems.”

Ruhn rubbed his arms, and Elain tracked the movement, but then he tucked back into his food.

“As for you,” Azriel continued, his voice calm, his posture relaxed and reflective, “it’s really up to you, Elain. You know what we are. How much you want to know about what we do and how we do it, is up to you. I won’t make you part of it, unless you want to. Even if I know that you would be useful, and Rhys, who’s never passed the opportunity to use someone, has some ideas, you are my wife, first and foremost,”

Ruhn and Fenrys nodded in agreement.

Azriel added, “Which means you aren’t a political pawn in this world of ours. We’ve been political pawns already–that’s why you are Mrs. King now–but that’s all over and done with. You live your life how you want to. I won’t make you do something you aren’t comfortable with.”

“But what if I want to,” she interjected softly. “What if I want to be part of it,”

“Then you’ll see what each one of us does, and you’ll decide.”

Ruhn threw an alarmed glance at Azriel, but Az only shrugged,

“She knows it ain’t pretty. If she can handle it, then we know she can handle it. I mean, she already wacked Hybern, so how delicate do you think she is?”

Elain hid a small smile and blushed at the praise.

“As for women being part of the organization,” Azriel bubbled his lips, “trust me, after the three hits that Immacolata Vanserra put out on me, I have full confidence that women could be just as brutal and unhinged as any man.”

“That chick is nuts,” Fenrys groaned in agreement.

“Beron’s wife?” Elain was confused. “I thought she is just a lady who lunches and breeds…well, with the seven sons and all,”

“She lunches, breeds and tortures people, while ordering hits. Don’t be fooled by the pale delicate visage and the pretty red hair–that woman is vicious."

“The Nolan ma just sits in church all day–she ain’t involved,” Ruhn added, smirking. “Like that’s gonna help her with Graysen. Jesus won’t take the wheel, Fiona,” he concluded tartly.

“Can I think about it?” Elain proposed softly.

“You think about it as long as you want to, babygirl!” Fenrys allowed.

She smiled. Satisfaction written on her lovely face.

Azriel lay in bed.

It was late, and he was ready to doze off, but, predictably, he kept thinking about Elain and fighting the urge to go to her bedroom.

Memories of her naked body assailed him every time he closed his eyes.

It’s been a while since he’s had sex. Months. There’s been an occasional blowjob at one of his clubs, but that was as far as it went. He’s had no time, and though he could’ve technically had any woman go back with him to his apartment at the hotel, he didn’t. He wasn’t sure why. Seven months ago he was almost murdered, in an ordered hit, which he later found out was made by Immacolata Vanserra. He escaped, just barely and went into hiding in London for a bit, while here, Fenrys kidnapped one of the Vanserra sons in broad daylight. And then Ruhn went to work on him.

Eventually, the Vanserra kid was returned to his mother. Piece by piece. Six fingers, four toes, one ear…it only stopped when she received a Polaroid with her son’s balls beneath Ruhn’s trusted knife. The hit order on Azriel was pulled back and then the Vanserra kid was returned to his parents.

Did it bother him that Elain wanted, or at least contemplated the possibility of being part of their violent world? Not really. He held no illusions about Elain–she might have been coddled, and perhaps shielded in some ways from the realities of this life, but she was a Mafia princess through and through. He wanted to give her the freedom to decide for herself.

He dozed off, dreaming of that soft body splayed in front of him. Ruhn’s hand inside of her. Moving. Moving. Giving her pleasure. Ruhn’s cum all over her full pink breasts.

He was awakened because the door to his bedroom opened. His hand immediately went to the gun under his pillow, but the soft padding of bare feet told him that there was no danger. He relaxed, but did not move, pretending to be asleep.

Elain tiptoed to the bed, and then carefully slid under the comforter, keeping as far away from him as possible, sticking to the other side of the bed. She tried to breathe quietly, but he could hear her heartbeat, even from where he lay. He sensed her looking at him, and when she was assured that he was asleep, she seemed to relax. In a few minutes, she settled in under the covers, turning away from him and squashing the pillow under her head. He didn’t dare move, so he just watched her in the darkness of the room, as her shoulders slumped and her breathing evened out and she fell asleep next to him. In their bed.

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