Chapter 25 Livvie
LIVVIE
I stand in the middle of my music room with my violin tucked beneath my chin and my bow gliding.
The lights are off, yet the milky wash of the moon pours inside. My bare feet press onto the cool floor, silk shorts brushing the apex of my thighs as I play.
A black bra top hugs my boobs, and my shower damp hair cascades down my back.
I let the bow cut across the strings, creating a beautiful scream without a real voice.
Emotions erupt from the flurry of notes. Music is the only thing I trust these days. Even more so than I trust myself.
A prickle of awareness shivers through me and I sense a subtle but undeniable presence join me. I don’t turn to face my husband when he enters, though every part of me longs to.
Instead, I continue even though the music I’m playing falters, a brief hitch in the melody that echoes the tension creeping through me.
After our argument earlier, he left the penthouse without another word. And now he’s back to shake up my world in whatever way he thinks is fitting.
The familiar scent of my husband’s cologne hits next. Smoky, musky undertones wrap around me, curling through the heat already coiled in my blood.
I lower the violin, panting a little as I finally acknowledge his arrival with a glare.
Kingston stands at the edge of the room like a shadow pulled from the night.
His T-shirt looks damp and there’s a towel looped around his neck, dark with sweat. A black baseball cap sits low, casting darkness over half his face.
Even from across the room, I can see the gleam in his eyes, that distinct, unreadable glint that says he’s on edge.
That I made him like that.
He doesn’t speak or make a move, rather he presses his back to the wall and stares right at me.
And God help me, my knees go soft.
“Rough night?” I manage, even though my voice sounds small.
When he doesn’t answer, I set the violin on its stand, blanching a little as his unwavering gaze remains fixed on me.
After a silent beat, he drags off the damp towel and tosses it aside before lifting the hem of his sports T-shirt. With a slow sweep, he pulls it over his head.
The ink across his chest catches the moonlight and my pulse kicks, deep and low. Every inch of his abdomen is carved, earned from sheer dedication. A man made for war who stands before me like he wishes I wasn’t the enemy.
Without a word, Kingston prowls toward me. The moment he crosses the invisible line between safe and too close, my breath stalls.
His body radiates a heat I’d gladly surrender to, and the black cap he wears still casts a shadow over his eyes, intensifying the darkness in his soul.
“I didn’t give you permission to stop playing, wife,” he says finally, his voice thick and hoarse.
I square my shoulders. “And you didn't offer an applause.”
He smirks, slow and dark, though the gesture doesn't soften the look in his eyes.
“You don’t want me to clap, Livvie,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “You want something else, don’t you?”
He crowds my personal space as he lifts his hand and uses two fingers beneath my chin to tilt my face up. His eyes search mine like he’s looking for proof that I’m still here, still his.
His voice is a low growl. “Strip.”
My throat tightens. “Excuse me?”
“The top. The shorts. Take them off.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
A beat of silence stretches between us while I debate my next move. I should turn away given the lethal task circling in my thoughts or even slap him to prove I’m still in control.
But I’m not… not really when it comes to this man.
Taking a deep breath, I pull the bra top over my head, heart pounding as the cool air pebbles my nipples. Next, the shorts fall in a whisper around my ankles.
I strengthen my posture and enjoy the thrill when he thumbs his bottom lip, his gaze raking over my breasts. “Pick up your violin.”
I narrow my eyes and glance at the instrument.
"That was an order," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "I deserve to watch my beautiful wife perform in a private gig. You owe me, after all, Livvie. Don’t you?"
I nod and lift the instrument, bringing it to my collarbone. When the bow finds the strings, the first note trembles.
While I play, Kingston moves behind me, his hand sliding into my hair, gripping tight at the root, enough to make my scalp prickle and my breath catch.
“Play like I own you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “Because guess what?”
The bow shudders across the strings when he licks the curve of my neck.
“I do.” His voice rumbles through me. “Don’t I?”
“Yes…”
“You can be a handful, but that’s what makes you so fucking irresistible.”
A hot smack lands on my ass, swift and punishing. I jolt forward, gasping, the next note shrieking out of time.
“Focus, wife.”
The second strike comes harder, and I moan before I can stop it. The music cuts out so only the sound of his breathing surrounds me.
My readiness to perform dissolves and the bow slips from my hand. I can’t keep playing. Not when every inch of me is pulsing with need.
He yanks my head back by my hair and his other hand jumps to my throat, sending liquid heat surging between my thighs.
I arch into the movement as he drags his tongue over my shoulder, then bites it with a pressure that claims me as his.
“I like seeing you squirm,” he rasps, his breath hot against my neck. “Obey me.”
Kingston’s chest brushes my spine, every inch of his body a tempting presence behind me. His grip on my hair tightens for a beat before he releases it, fingers trailing down the length of my spine, leaving a shivery trail.
“Keep going.”
He steps back just enough to allow me the freedom to play, but when I try to remember the notes, my mind goes blank.
His hands find their way around my chest and he plucks my nipple.
The sudden shock of pleasure sends fire through my veins, and the made-up melody goes off-key. He doesn’t stop, his touch confident and controlling, taking me to a place where I’ll fully surrender.
I spin around to face him and lower the instrument, my breathing all over the place.
He steps into me, his gaze dark and knowing.
"Ah, my wife doesn’t want to play anymore?" he muses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it you want now, Livvie? Tell me, what’s more important than pleasing me?"
His fingers graze the side of my neck, his voice dropping lower as he continues. "Go on, show me what it is you think you deserve."
I look up at him, my breath shallow, and for a fleeting moment I let my gaze soften, unable to hide the way I’m drawn to him.
He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispers, "I feel it too."
His words carry a weight of truth, something sacred that only he and I share.
The change in his demeanor happens in an instant and his dominance returns with a different kind of intensity. Our gazes lock, his control still there, but now it’s edged with a darker desire.
"So, what is it you want, Livvie?" His voice drops lower, a challenge loaded with a demand. "Tell me. I’ll give it to you, but only if you ask for it."
I take a shaky breath, lust and fear warring as I stare into his eyes, vulnerable and open.
"Maybe… we could run away from all of this," I whisper, setting the violin in its case on the floor. "Just you and me, somewhere far away from hitmen and orders. No more games. Just us."
For a fleeting moment, I think he might agree because his expression softens, and a flicker of something I can’t place passes across his face.
But then he lets out a low laugh, a sound full of dark amusement and authority.
"I’d love to give you a happily ever after, Livvie." His breath is hot against my skin. "But the truth is… I run New York. And that’ll never change. Not for you, not for anyone."
Without warning, he scoops me up into his arms, his strength taking me by surprise as he carries me to the large window. He sets me down, positioning me in front of it, my palms flat against the cool glass.
His hands guide mine apart, and his bare feet nudge my stance wider. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating, until I hear the sound of him lowering his shorts, the fabric rustling in the stillness.
"You’re my wife," he says from behind, not touching me in any way. "The only woman who gets to stand beside me. While you look out at the city I own, I’ll remind you that I own you, too."
He steps closer, his breath a heated whisper against the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
"I’ll fuck you with nothing but panes of glass separating us from New York, Livvie, and when you come apart on my dick, you’ll understand the power I have… and the power you have over me."
“What do you really want from me?” I glance over my shoulder, catching the sight of his messy hair, tousled from when he’d pulled off his cap and ran a hand through it. “Your family doesn’t trust me… and I can’t help but wonder if you don’t either.”
“No more questioning this shit. No more doubt about your place in my life. You’re mine, Livvie. So, how about we see how far this goes, yeah?”
His hand slides to my throat, securing me in place as he leans down from behind, lips brushing my earlobe. “You’re going to take all of me like a good wife should. Understand?”
I swallow against his palm. “Yes…”
“You like this, don’t you?” he mutters, teeth grazing the side of my neck before he sucks. “The way I’ve claimed you, every part of you. Even when you tried to fight it.”
My breath hitches, a mixture of discomfort and desire crashing together as his touch becomes more insistent, more possessive.
His hands explore every inch of my skin, worshipping, but it’s a slow, agonizing pace.
Every touch is a chain reaction that has me hungry for what comes next.
“You’re going to wait for me to fuck you, Livvie,” he growls, his voice thick with control. "I’ll take you to the edge, but I won’t let you come until I’m right there with you.”
My veins run hotter, each caress making the ache more unbearable, the need for release more desperate.
I want to move, to beg, but I can’t. He’s in control, and every part of me knows it.
He trails a hand down my belly, his fingers moving between my thighs. When he strokes my swollen clit, a rush of warmth spreads through me.
I push my ass into him, craving more, needing to take it further, but he pulls away and brings his fingers to my mouth.
“Suck,” he commands, and when I do, his thick grunt is everything. “You feel it, don’t you? How your little clit is pulsating for me, and your wet cunt begs for my hard dick. But you’ll wait, won’t you?”
I shudder, the unbearable tension building inside, the ache becoming all-consuming.
“You’ll wait until I’m convinced you’re not working against me with Roman.”
“I’m not!” My gasp is ragged when he slips a finger inside. “I told Roman to leave me alone. I reminded him that I’m Mrs. Viacava these days.”
The words fall from my lips in desperation, pleading for him to listen, to understand. “That I’m yours.”
His breath hisses in my ear, a low, controlled exhale. My chest rises and falls in shallow breaths as I watch his eyes drilling into our reflection in the glass.
“Fuck… yeah… Mrs. Viacava…” He hums his approval. “Now that gets me fucking hard.”
He presses his body into mine again, the reflection showing the way we fit together—his strength, my vulnerability. "Any man who tries to put his dick near my wife will lose it and his life."
He fists my hair into a ponytail and yanks my head back. “Your pussy belongs to me.”
Kingston releases me, his hands falling away as he steps back, grabbing my hips and jerking them toward him just enough to give him full access.
Before I can take my next breath, the tip of his dick slides through my wet slit, teasing for only a moment before he thrusts in hard, stretching me with a single, forceful movement.
"Keep your eyes forward, Livvie," he growls. "Look out at the city I rule over while I fuck you.”
He pulls out and pauses, teasing me, making me burn for more, before slamming back in with a punishing thrust.
My breasts jiggle from the movement, and heat flames my skin, the hunger unbearable.
My inner walls clench tight around him, desperate for a release, but he pulls his dick out again, the cruel edge of his control keeping me teetering on the brink.
“You’ll come when you deserve it,” he grits out, his movements relentless, pushing me further. “Let me hear my wife beg for me.”
I’m on fire, every nerve in my body screaming, but he won’t let me fall over the edge.
His grunts and the force of his pounding turn the tension hotter. My hands slide down the glass and my gaze falls on the buildings outside.
"Please," I plead, my voice breaking. “Please, Kingston… I need to come. Come inside me—"
My words rasp as he pulls out again, leaving me aching, desperate.
“Not yet,” he growls, his voice dark and filled with dominance.
His hands tighten, holding me in place as he slams back in, deep and hard, and I cry out in pleasure and frustration.
“Please…” I pant, louder this time. “I can’t… I can’t wait. Please, let me come. Please, don’t tease me anymore.”
The fire in my veins makes every nerve tingle. But still, he pulls back just as I’m about to break, making the intense need inside me grow.
“Beg me again, wife,” he commands. “Beg your husband, Livvie. I want to hear it.”
“Please… Kingston. I can’t take it. I need you. Please… let me come. I’m yours, Kingston. Please.”
"Five," he growls in my ear. "Four…"
He pulls almost all the way out, only to slam back in harder, faster.
"Three…" My legs tremble, my entire body on the verge of breaking.
“Two…”
My chest heaves, the wild desire to fall, to finally let go, mounting inside me.
"Please," I beg again, almost frantic. "Please, Kingston… don't stop."
He pulls me against him, his fingers digging into my hip bones, his breathing loud and his grunts so fucking sexy.
"One…"
As the final count rumbles, he slams in, harder than before, and the world goes white-hot.
Waves of pleasure crash through me, the spine-tingling release hitting with so much force I can’t breathe.
I’m dizzy, disoriented, and when I groan his name, my needy voice sounds alien to me.
As my vision blurs, strong arms clamp around me, securing me as the orgasm pulsates all over.
His breath is harsh against my ear, until he grunts and drives in deep one last time, emptying cum inside me.
Kingston locks himself around me, his chest pressed to my spine, grounding me as I try to regulate my breathing.
"You know," he murmurs, "trust is a dangerous thing, Livvie. I gave it to you, and I thought you’d do the same for me. But now… I wonder if you truly trust me or are you just waiting for the moment when you destroy everything I’ve given you?"