His Kingdom (Owning Vegas Book 1)

I’m back there. In that alleyway. Huddled between two dumpsters. It’s cold, dark, and my stomach is growling. I don’t know how long it’s been. She’s going to come back soon. She said she’d come back soon. Then there’s a noise—no, it’s not a noise. It’s a whimper.

I look next to me.I’m not alone. “Louie, you said I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Charlotte, what are you doing here?” I whisper. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m here because you’re here. I’m hungry, Louie. When can we leave?” she asks me.

“What?” I look around. We’re no longer in the alleyway. And I’m not a child waiting for his mother. We’re in a casino, crouched down behind a slot machine. “What’s happening?” I ask no one in particular.

“I’m scared, Louie,” Charlotte says. “I’m hungry and cold and scared.”

I wake with a start. My body jolts up in bed. The usual feeling of hunger hits me. Charlotte lies beside me. Asleep. She has to be hungry too. Right? She was there, in the dream. That hasn’t ever happened before. No one has seeped into the nightmare before.

What the fuck does it mean that Charlotte was there?

Climbing out of bed, I contemplate waking her up. She has to be hungry. I should wake her up and make her eat something. Common sense tells me it was just a dream and not real. That she’s fine. She’s safe. She’s not hungry, cold, or scared.

I walk into the kitchen, open the fridge, and pull out one of the ready-made meals. Peeling the plastic off the top and popping the tray into the microwave. My stomach growls, and my fists clench at my sides. I can’t stand being hungry. I should be used to it by now. It’s not uncommon for me to wake up from one of those dreams starving.

The microwave pings. I grab the tray and sit it on the counter. Before dropping onto one of the stools and digging into the food. I eat fast. I always do when no one is watching. When no one is here to judge. No one knows that, out of all the situations I’ve encountered in life, I’ve never been more scared than I was in that alleyway, waiting for a mother who wasn’t ever coming back.

The sound of footsteps behind me has my spine straightening. “Louie, it’s four in the morning,” Charlotte says, her voice groggy from sleep.

I stop eating—although it’s the last thing I want to do—and turn to face her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I rolled over and the bed was empty. That’s what woke me up,” she says, sitting down next to me.

“You’re hungry. Let me get you something to eat.” I go to stand, and Charlotte grabs hold of my arm. Her hand is freezing.

“I’m not hungry,” she says.

“You’re cold, Fuck. Shit.” I jump up off the stool, run into the living room, and pull the throw blanket off the sofa. I bring it back and wrap it around Charlotte’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “I’ll get you some food.”

“Louie, stop. I’m fine. Really, I’m not cold and I’m not hungry,” she says.

Ignoring her protests, I set another tray in the microwave, keeping my back to her while I wait for the timer to go off. I’m trying to control my need to wrap her up and hold her close to me. I want to apologize for failing her already, for letting her go hungry and cold. That never should have happened.

What the fuck am I doing?

I startle out of my thoughts when the microwave dings. I take the food out, place it in front of Charlotte, and hand her a fork. “Eat. You should never have to feel hunger,” I tell her. “I won’t let you go hungry.” Then I reclaim my seat and pick up my own fork again. Mindful of how fast I’m eating this time.

“Louie, what’s wrong?” Charlotte asks me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go cold and hungry. It won’t happen again,” I repeat.

“I don’t know what happened, but I really am fine,” she says. “Something else is going on. Talk to me.”

I look at her. I can’t tell this woman how fucked up my head really is. I’m trying to keep her here, not fucking scare her away.

“Louie, you know part of having a girlfriend is having someone you can talk to, someone who will listen without judgement,” Charlotte continues.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before,” I admit.

“Like ever?” she asks.

“I’ve never wanted anyone to get too close, to see how fucked up I really am,” I explain.

“Well, I’m here, and I’m pretty close, so how about you tell me just how fucked up you really are?”

“I can’t. I don’t want you to run.”

“At this point, I’m pretty sure you’re some kind of mobster or underworld criminal, and I’m still right here. If that hasn’t made me run, what else do you think could?” she asks.

My lips tip up slightly. If only she knew I wasn’t just part of the underworld. I am the underworld. “I… My mother was a whore, Charlotte. When I was a kid, she’d leave me in alleyways while she went to work. She always came back for me. Until she didn’t. I was there for two days before police found me.”

Charlotte stays quiet. She doesn’t look at me with disgust or pity. “How old were you?”

“Eight,” I tell her. “I have this recurring nightmare of being in that alley. I always wake up starving afterwards.”

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay?”

“See? Talking? It’s okay to talk. I’m still here.” Charlotte smiles at me, and I swear I feel some of my tension break off and fall away.

“I wasn’t alone in the dream this time…”

“Who was with you?”

“You.”

“Me?” she asks.

“You were scared, cold, and hungry. I couldn’t keep you safe. I couldn’t provide for you.” I shake my head, annoyed with myself all over again.

“It wasn’t real,” Charlotte tells me.

“What if it was? What if one day it is? What if keeping you here is a mistake?”

“Do you feel like this is a mistake?” Charlotte climbs down from her stool. She swivels mine around and steps between my legs. Her hands land on my bare chest. “Does this feel like a mistake to you, Louie?” she repeats before her lips press against the middle of my chest.

“No,” I tell her. “You are not a mistake.”

“Louie?”

“Yeah?”

“Take me back to bed,” Charlotte says.

Without another word, I stand, pick her up, and carry her back down the hall to the bedroom. My body follows hers onto the mattress. “Coming back to bed is a great idea.”

My lips slam onto hers, my body suffering from a different sort of starvation now. I’m hungry for her, more of her, always more. I move my mouth down Charlotte’s chin and along her neck.

“You were made to be treasured, sweetheart, but your body… it was made to be fucked,” I tell her. My hand slides between us, grazing along her inner thighs. “Fuck, you’re dripping. I can feel your wetness all the way down your leg. Is this for me? Are you wet for me?”

Charlotte’s hips arch upwards, her core seeking the friction she’s desperate for. “I need you,” she moans.noveldrama

“Need, huh? What is it that you need from me?” I ask her.

“I need you to touch me,” she says, her breath catching when I do just that. My fingers slide under the piece of lace covering her pussy. Circling around her hard little bud. Her body practically jumps off the bed, her wetness covering my fingers.

“I love how responsive you are,” I tell her. “Your body is mine. This is all mine.” My teeth bite down on Charlotte’s shoulder. I pull my hand back and sit up. Charlotte groans. “I want this off.” I tug her shirt—my shirt—over her head. Staring at her perfect, C-cup breasts. “These are mine.” I cup one and then the other as Charlotte’s hands run up and down my chest, my abs.

“Does that make all of this mine?” she asks me.

“It’s all yours,” I reply as I lean forward, covering her body with mine again.

Charlotte’s tongue darts out, licking across my collarbone. “Good, because I licked it, which means it’s mine.”

I raise a brow at her. “If I lick it, it’s mine? Challenge accepted.” Taking hold of her wrists, I position her arms above her head. “I’m going to lick you from head to toe. Keep your hands there. Don’t move them or I’ll tie them up,” I warn, and the moan that comes out of her mouth tells me she likes the idea more than I thought she would. “You want to be tied up, sweetheart?”

Charlotte smiles but shakes her head. “I’ll be good. I’ll keep them here.”

“Good girl. Don’t move. Your body is a piece of fine art I’m going to take my time exploring.” My tongue trails from her shoulder, down to her right breast, before capturing her nipple. I release the hardened bud with a plop before looking up at her. She hasn’t moved. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Charlotte asks.

“For not running,” I tell her before repeating the process with her other nipple.

“Argh, god.” Her body moves upwards, and her hands come down on the top of my head.

I smirk around her nipple before letting it go. Fuck, those moans do something to me. They make me feral. I want to record them so I can play them back, over and over. Or better yet, maybe I just need to keep making her come day and night.

Sitting up on my knees, I move her hands back above her head. “Keep them there.”

“Sorry.” Charlotte giggles. “Continue, please.”

“You know, no one else dares to give me orders,” I tell her.

“Well, I’m not just anyone,” Charlotte says.

“No, you’re not.” I continue my slow exploration of her body. Licking down her stomach and circling my tongue around her belly button, causing her to squirm and laugh.

When I get to her pussy, I peel her panties down her legs before spreading them wide and lapping at her from bottom to top. “I licked it, so it’s mine,” I tell Charlotte before diving back in.