Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Read online

“You’re welcome, my darling.”

  The next morning, as we drove in a caravan to the airfield, a feeling of dread settled over me, and I rubbed my chest. Kensington must’ve noticed since she rested her hand on mine and squeezed my fingers.

  Once at the airfield, I reviewed our flight plan along with the plan for security once we landed at our destination.

  I’d been intentional in choosing the seven-hundred-and-forty-acre island because it was private with very little accessibility. That didn’t mean it was one-hundred percent secure; nothing ever could be. However, with the team I had assembled, I believed we would be able to keep Kensington safe. There would be staff working where we’d be staying, but each person employed had been thoroughly vetted by Decker.

  I rolled my shoulders as I climbed the steps to the plane where Kensington had already gotten settled. As prearranged, when I walked into the main cabin, there was a buffet of food set out along with bottles of champagne.

  I looked around for Kensington, who moments later, walked out of one of two staterooms and smiled. I opened my arms and met her halfway. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. “This is bloody brilliant, Cortez. Thank you.”

  I cupped her cheek with my palm. “It’s nice to see your smile.”

  We ate while the crew prepared for our departure. Once they and the team were in place and the buffet stored away, she and I went to the aft cabin for take-off.

  “Is it a long flight?”

  “Yes. Would you like to know how long?”

  Kensington shook her head. “Nope.”

  I held her hand, marveling at the trust she placed in me. We’d had long talks about the length of time I believed it would be necessary for her to stay under the protection of a full team. After her questions were answered, she accepted them without argument.

  Once we heard the chimes indicating we could move about the aircraft, she stood and held her hand out to me. I followed her into the stateroom, locked the door behind me, and watched as she pulled her simple shift over her head and tossed it on the chair. Underneath, she wore a royal-blue bra and panty set.

  “Please, let me,” I said when she reached up to undo the clasp between her two magnificent breasts. Kensington smiled and dropped her hands. “Lie on the bed, my darling. Spread your legs for me.” She shuddered, and chill bumps covered her arms and legs. Not to worry, though, within a few short minutes, she’ll be burning with the fiery passion that always ignites between us.

  I slowly removed my clothes, placing them on the chair where she’d tossed her dress. Once naked, I crawled beside her and wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, holding her tightly to me as our tongues intertwined. She grasped my steel-hard cock, and I hissed with pleasure before grabbing her wrist and moving her hand away.

  “Cortez,” she moaned, the lower half of her body writhing.

  “Put your hands above your head, Kensington, and leave them there. Do not move them unless I tell you to.”

  I smiled when she did as I asked with a raised brow. “I want to touch you, Cortez.”

  “And you shall, when I grant you permission to.”

  When she squeezed her thighs together, I spread them farther apart, grabbed hold of the side of her panties, and ripped them from her body. The mewl she released told me exactly how much that excited her.

  “Look at me, Kensington,” I said when her eyes drifted closed. “Watch what I do to you.” When I unfastened the clasp, the cups of her bra fell to each side, exposing her luscious tits. Her chest heaved, and her nipples stood erect, begging for my touch.

  “Are you wet for me?” I asked, slowly trailing my fingers down the center of her body and then back up. She mewled again, this time in frustration.

  “Show me.”

  “What?”

  “I said, show me.” I moved one of her hands from above her head and placed it on her pussy. I reached for her other hand and moved it to her breast. “Pinch your nipple and then show me how wet it makes you.”

  I watched as her fingers spread open her folds and she dragged them through her wetness. I grabbed her wrist and brought her fingers to my mouth, groaning as I suck her essence from them. “More.”

  I caught a hint of a smile as she followed my command, wetting her fingers and then bringing her hand back to my mouth.

  “Keep pinching your nipple, sweetheart.” I sucked her fingers clean a second time and then captured her hard nipple between my teeth. Kensington’s back arched, and she cried out with the bite of pain.

  “Do you like that?” I asked.

  “Do it again,” she whispered.

  I moved to her other breast and sunk my teeth into its fleshy side. “Put your fingers in your pussy,” I demanded before sucking hard on her nipple and while I rubbed circles on her clit with my thumb.

  “Harder,” I whispered in her ear. I captured her sounds of pleasure when my mouth covered hers and she came.

  I pinched her clit when she tried to move my hand away. “Too sensitive, my darling?”

  Kensington’s hand grasped my wrist as I reached down and thrust two fingers inside her.

  “God, Cortez, please.”

  “Please what, my beauty?”

  Her eyes met mine. “Fuck me.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Fuck me. Hard. I’m begging you.”

  I rolled her over, pulled her up at the waist, and thrust inside her drenched heat. She was so tight around me, the perfect size to squeeze my girth as I moved in and out with a slowness that was as painful for me as I knew it was for her.

  “Harder,” she begged, pushing herself against me.

  “Not yet.” I kept the same slow, maddening pace until I felt her relax into the rhythm. As soon as she did, I withdrew despite her cry of protest, put my arm around her waist, and rolled her to her back. I raised her legs, holding them together at her ankles and entered her with a single, brutal thrust. “Breathe with me, Kensington.”

  She looked into my eyes and concentrated on matching her breathing to mine. I pushed deeper into her and held myself there, focusing on her breath, the look in her eyes. She squeezed me with her pussy, and I nipped her ankle, making her giggle and do it again.

  I thrust harder then, ramming into her and watching her expression change from playful to lost in a cloud of bliss. Only then did I allow myself to careen over the edge and empty my release deep inside of her.

  In a dizzy haze, I dropped beside her, pulling her into my arms. “You are so fucking perfect,” I murmured. “You’re everything.”

  I was astounded when I heard the pilot say we were beginning our descent. Kensington and I had pleasured one another’s bodies the entire nine-hour trip. Even now, I could barely stand not being back inside of her. I was insatiable. Evidently, she was too, given she reached out and wrapped her hand around my softening cock.

  “We have time,” she said, pleading with her eyes and taking me into her mouth.

  “As if I can resist you.”

  We were shuttled from the plane to a boat launch where we were quickly transported to the private island of Fregate, the easternmost in the Seychelles.

  On the way, the boat’s driver educated us on the lush vegetation and told us the largest treehouse in the world sat in one of the island’s Banyan trees. We had seven pristine beaches that we only needed to share with the more than two thousand free-roaming, giant Aldabra turtles.

  Thatched-roof cottages dotted the hillsides above the dock where the boat would remain for our entire stay. If it became necessary to leave quickly, there was also a helipad on the opposite side of the island with a helicopter on standby.

  Angel and Casper stayed with us while the other four team members assisted the island staff in getting our luggage to the cottages I’d designated.

  “May I bring you a cocktail?” a woman asked when Kensington and I stepped off the dock, removed our shoes, and made our way to the pristine blue water of the Indian Ocean.

  “Outstanding serv
ice,” Kensington said after we’d placed our order and stepped into the warm water.

  “It will continue the entire time we’re here.”

  “And how long will that be?”

  “I’m thinking forever might be nice.”

  She smiled again, which had been my goal. If only there were a place I could keep her safe from harm forever. I knew better, though. Such a place didn’t exist. I’d learned that very painful lesson almost seven years ago.

  21

  Kensington

  I woke up in a state of bliss every day we were on the island. Cortez and I went for long walks on the most breathtaking beaches I’d ever seen. We swam in the ocean, made love in secluded coves, ate and drank enough to keep our bodies fueled, and then some.

  While he’d said he’d like to stay here forever, he finally confessed we’d be here only a month. I did my best to stay in the moment, enjoy every day, and not think about the most perfect time of my life coming to an end. That became more difficult as time ticked by.

  Cortez felt it too; that was easy to see. We’d made a promise, not just between ourselves, but with the entourage—as I began referring to them—we brought with us, that we would not discuss anything to do with the von Habsburgs.

  I didn’t see them often, but when I did, it was interesting to watch the dynamics between this group of alphas, men and women. Each had a contagious confidence. They were endlessly competitive about everything. When there was a group together, at least one would invent some kind of contest. They ranged from tests of physical strength or self-discipline to who could eat the most or make Cortez and I laugh the hardest. In the midst of it all, they were vigilant about making sure no one who wasn’t supposed to be here came onto the island. I was sure they also kept a constant watch on the staff, although they were never intrusive about it.

  Smoke and Siren, who appeared to work as a team, walked a very fine line between love and hate. However, both did their absolute best not to let on anything but hate to one another.

  Watching the interaction between Angel and Casper and two of the men who came with us, Ink and Crash, was most fascinating of all. Both treated Casper like a beloved sister, and competed for Angel’s attention.

  Ink was the biggest and most fit man I’d ever seen. I could see him competing in Mr. Universe contests—not that I knew whether those still existed. Or just bodybuilding competitions. His muscles literally bulged as if they were straining to tear through the skin that covered them.

  Crash was the funniest of the group and was teased endlessly for his code name, which I learned was appropriately given. The man was, in a word, clumsy. I didn’t doubt for a minute that he was competent in any kind of dangerous situation, but in day-to-day, normal life, he regularly dropped, ran into, or broke things.

  What made the name even worse was that, in addition to being an agent, he was an airline pilot.

  He had a long scar running the length of his calf that was the result of a motorcycle accident he’d had in his early twenties. There was a profound sadness surrounding him when Angel asked what had happened. Later, when Cortez and I were alone, I asked too.

  “He was riding with a friend on a mountain road. They came to a blind curve, and a semi-truck coming from the other way hit both motorcycles, sending Crash into the mountainside and his friend off the cliff.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand. “That’s horrifying.”

  Cortez nodded.

  “I don’t think you should refer to him as Crash.”

  He cupped my cheek with his palm. “It’s said that acknowledging the loss can help ease the pain of it perhaps better than attempting to block the memory.”

  “Is that why you visit Celestina’s grave so often?”

  “In part. As odd as it may seem, it also eased my loneliness.”

  “Are you anxious to get back?”

  He pulled me into him and ran his fingers through my hair. “No more anxious than you are.”

  “You have a life to return to.”

  “And you feel as though yours is in limbo.”

  “More so, yes. It isn’t a new thing for me.”

  He lay back on the bed and held me in his arms. “Tell me, Kensington.”

  How did I tell him I felt as though my life had no meaning? I had no goals, no purpose. Before Gran Bea passed away, I spent the majority of my time with her. I wasn’t her caregiver; she had a staff for that, but I was her companion. I learned more about life—about everything—from her than I ever would have at university.

  There were times I wished I’d continued my education, but more because I felt it was expected of me rather than it being something I wanted to do.

  Both of my parents graduated from college. My mother from Barnhard, my father from Oxford. Neither did anything with their degrees. My father had a law degree and was a professional photographer. My mother’s degree was in literature, and she was a professional socialite.

  My grandfather spent his life working in the publishing industry for a house that had been in our family for over three hundred years. He’d worked his way up from a copy boy to chairman of the board, which he sat on until the day he died, at which time the seat was given to me.

  After his retirement from daily work, he and my grandmother had labored tirelessly for a variety of social causes.

  I realized Cortez was studying me, waiting for an answer to his question.

  “I haven’t yet found my way.” It was something Gran Bea used to say when I would fret about what meaning I had in life. “You will find your way, my dear,” she’d say. “And when you do, you’ll know instantly that everything went exactly the way it was supposed to go.”

  Cortez didn’t speak, so I continued. “I look at the people with us here on the island, and I find myself envying their level of commitment. Yours too.”

  “When you find your way, as you said, you will have an equal commitment to it.”

  “What if I never find it?”

  “How hard have you looked?”

  “I’m not good at anything, Cortez.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  I looked into his eyes to see if he was teasing. “What do you see that I’m good at?”

  “You read voraciously, and it is evident in the way you do it that you are learning, soaking it all in. You are very adept in higher societal situations.”

  “It’s a pity I wasn’t born in the seventeen hundreds when those talents might have served me.”

  He brushed my cheek with his finger. “I wasn’t finished.”

  “Thank God.”

  He laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “You gave immense comfort to the families at the children’s hospital on Christmas night. Immense. It isn’t just in ‘polite company’ that you excel; you were marvelous with them.”

  “And what would I do with such immense talent?”

  “Follow your great-aunt’s lead as well as that of your grandparents. Find something that speaks to your heart and use your compassion to make a difference.”

  “I continue Gran Bea’s and Huck’s charitable work.”

  “Do you?”

  I shook my head. “Not work, no.”

  “You continue with their level of financial support.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not spend time with each of the organizations and see which you feel compelled to do more for? If it isn’t any of those, there are innumerable charities that could use support, either in time, talent, or money.”

  “Become a philanthropist.”

  “That’s one idea. What else are you passionate about, Kensington?”

  I shrugged. I did love to read, but didn’t see anything worthwhile I could do in that regard.

  “What about Whitby Press?”

  “What of it?”

  “With your love of reading, one would think working for such an esteemed publishing house would be very appealing.”

  “I never went to university.”

  “You sit on the board,
do you not?”

  “I forget how much you know about my life.”

  “What if you offered to review manuscript submissions or become an editorial assistant?”

  “I’m not sure why you think they would offer me such a position.”

  “You will never know if you don’t try. Besides, income wouldn’t be a motivating factor for you.”

  “I would ring them up and say, what? ‘Hello, may I please have something to read?’”

  “It’s a start.”

  It sounded absurd, but I appreciated Cortez’s willingness to at least discuss my lack of purpose, so I’d hardly poopoo every idea he had.

  His mobile vibrating startled me, and I sat up so he could reach over to get it. Instead of just looking at the screen, he stood and walked to the other side of the room.

  “What is it?”

  He met my gaze. “Arrangements have been made for me to meet with Otto von Habsburg.”

  “I see.”

  “I believe it’s our best chance to figure out whether his cousin Konstantine still poses a threat to you.”

  “You believe Konstantine had something to do with Otto’s attack?”

  “I do.”

  “When?”

  “Day after next.”

  “Which means?”

  “We will have to cut our trip short. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s only by a couple of days, Cortez. We stayed on far longer than I would’ve thought possible when we arrived.”

  When I approached and put my arms around him, he grasped the back of my neck with his hand and kissed me. “I hate the idea of giving up even a minute with you.”

  And I, him. But what would happen once this was all over? If he was able to determine I was no longer in danger, what would that mean? Would I then be allowed to return to my life and home in London? Cortez’s home was on the island of Mallorca. He lived his life globally because of his business.

  I’d lost track of why he and I were together in the first place—because the Queen had engaged his services to protect me.

  Once those services were no longer needed, what would happen between him and me?