Broken Crown (Mafia Royals #5) Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mafia Royals Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
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“Swear if you say sausage, I will slit your throat, no apologies.” I can barely get it out.

She laughs, and then she pulls my head down into the deepest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.

I feel home in that kiss.

Healing.

I feel reborn, not unmade.

I have no control as I dig my hands into her hair and keep her close, deepening that kiss while my hands tear at the rest of her clothes, so she’s bare to me and only me.

Her hands work fast on my jeans, and I know that maybe for only a few days I’m hers, she’s mine, but right now I tell myself it’s enough; I lie again because I can’t do this alone.

A king has never been able to rule without his queen.

I press my mouth to her neck.

Her body responds instantly as her little hands shove the rest of my jeans down, my shirt goes next, and then that’s it. It’s just us together, moving in sync, my cock hard for her, my heart shattered and broken, begging to be fixed.

She flips me onto my back and whispers against my mouth. “Six more days, King. Let me help.”

She pulls away.

I look up into her eyes. “Sex won’t fix this.”

Her eyelashes flutter. “I wasn’t talking about sex.”

My frown probably asked the lingering question: what the hell does she mean?

“Sometimes,” she says carefully, “hearts are broken in half, belonging to two people.” Her throat moves in a slow swallow. “Just because mine was his first doesn’t mean I can’t give you what’s left for the next week, whatever strength I have left.”

“Leftovers? You think I want leftovers?” I whisper.

“You want it all. Your name’s King, after all, and you’re greedy like that. But what if you just take, willingly, everything I have left to give? Will that at least keep you,” her lips tremble, “alive enough to fight this? For us? For the Families?”

The first thing I think is: she’s perfect, beautiful.

The next and more important thing, I think?

How very brave.

“It has to be,” I say. “It has to be enough. And you will always be enough no matter how many pieces you give. I’ll store them until this ends.”

“Until this ends.” She agrees, meeting my mouth.

I flip her onto the mattress. Her back hits hard, and then we’re kissing like we aren’t worried for our lives, our tongues meeting in a way they’ve never met before.

Like it’s the first time.

She grips my hips with her hands and guides me into her minutes later, pulling me into the fullest with another upward thrust. Then it’s all I can do to make love to her, to deepen each plunge and pray it’s enough to make her remember me if I die.

Maybe we were done before we started, but at least we have this.

She can lead me on all she wants.

I’ll follow.

Until this ends.

Until death.

Pleasure roars through me as my hands cup her breasts while she moans out my name when I kiss her.

I begin to fuck her hard.

And she takes me with each hit, like a drug.

I’m lost.

May I never be found.

Unless it’s in her arms, even if it’s the last breath I breathe.

“Fuck,” I whisper against her neck.

“Until this ends,” she says again as I pump my hips into her, so deep I’m afraid I’m hurting her. She hooks her ankles behind me and pulls me closer, then whispers it again. “Until the end.”

“Yes.” I can barely get the words out as waves of pleasure crash over me. “Until the end.”

“Always…” she breathes, kissing me again, and then she’s gripping me tighter, her fingernails digging deeper, finding herself in me without ever knowing, I’ve always found myself.

In her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“For it is better that we slay a coward than through a coward be all slain.”—The legends of King Arthur and his Knights

Del

“We should get up, do something with our lives,” I say, with King lying across me, his muscled body still heaving with exertion while wetness trickles down my legs.

I’ve never felt like this, both embarrassed and satisfied, hungry, yet sated. I lay there as he crawls up my body again like he wants more, and part of me thinks yes, yes, more, more, as if we have no time left.

And maybe it’s because we don’t?

I smirk at him, then swat his hand as it grabs my right boob.

“What?” He smiles. “I like it.”

“Shocker, you like a good nipple.”

“A great nipple.” He lowers his head and sucks between his lips until his teeth give a little tug until my body’s ready to go; yeah okay, good idea, let’s never leave this bed. “A fantastic nipple, but we don’t want this one to be jealous.” He moves to the other and does the same thing.

I can’t keep my moan in.

“I bet I can do it,” he says.

I’m confused because I’m feeling too many things, so I do the dumb thing and say, “Huh?”


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