War and His Queen (Carpe Noctem #1) Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Carpe Noctem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
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His mouth twitches when his eyes land on someone behind me.

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

I bounce off his lap as fast as I got on it, ignoring the leash that dangles between my breasts.

With a blunt nudge of his head, War whistles at whoever it is that has been watching for however long. “Don’t act like you’re scared now.”

Following War’s line of sight, Billy the Puppet stands in the direct path of it when he lands beside me.

Vaden chokes on his laugh as he kicks out his chair. “You two about fucking done?” I’m guessing everyone is back. You don’t see one without the others.

War’s eyes bounce between Billy the Puppet and I, ignoring our best friend.

What the fuck is he doing?

“Touch her inner thigh.” He pauses, pinning Billy the Puppet with a glare that’s borderline deranged. “And only her inner thigh.”

“Jesus, War!” River’s annoyance with her brother isn’t needed, but relief floods through me when I notice they’re all back. Pointedly ignoring Priest.

Billy the Puppet shadows behind me when he moves, clearly following instructions.

War palms the leash that hangs between us, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Touch her.”

“What are you doing?” It leaves my mouth as a whisper when I try to swallow around the coarseness of my throat. His scent still clings to me. The poison of his hungry kisses and the demand of his possessive touch running rampant through my blood.

The boy lowers himself to his knees. When a palm feathers my ankle, my heart fractures in my chest and leaves splinters of betrayal stuck in my throat. You motherfucking cunt.

With Seether’s “Fake It” playing, I know what I have to do.

His palm moves farther up the inside of my leg. I hate it. Where War’s hands are calloused, scarred from murder and pain, his are soft and sheltered.

Standing to his full height and positioned slightly behind my body, he stops at the top of my thigh, probably pushing it a little high, to be honest, but he stops.

The tip of his finger leaves a subtle warning, grazing the crease to where my pussy meets my thigh.

“You get it?” War antagonizes with cold possessiveness. “If you come near her again…” The glimmer in his eyes shouldn’t look as menacing as it does right now. His mouth widens, exposing the full set of his white teeth. “I’ll cut your fucking head off and feed it to my pet pig.”

A finger slips between the fold and my breath catches. If I make one movement or inclination that this guy just did the one thing that would guarantee him sitting on my brother’s other lap, it’ll be messy. They won’t even bother to hide their rage. They’ll kill him on the spot and then we’ll have a party of witnesses. Too many to pay off, kill, or intimidate.

Just as fast as his fingers arrived, they’re gone.

War leans back in his chair. “Put that same finger in your mouth.”

I glare at War. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“What?” He doesn’t move his focus from Billy, but then his eyes land on mine and the rage that tightens between us tugs at my chest. “You were gonna anyway. Did you not just threaten to fuck him again? On my lap? After coming all over my dick?”

Ah. So this is what this is about.

“Steady…” The subtle warning from Priest would usually raise my hackles, but all I see is War.

Now I want blood.

Billy moves, lifting his hand to where the hole in the mouth of his mask is. My jaw seizes when his finger disappears, along with my emotionally charged turmoil.

I will not cry from anger or cause a scene. I will just kill him. Yes, I will. Murder. Murder is the answer. Aunty Tillie always says that.

The reverberation of War’s snicker almost matches the baseline of the current song playing.

“Tsk, tsk, Malum. You lit a fire I’m not sure you’ll be able to put out…” Stella teases from somewhere near Priest.

War ignores her, his attention solely back on his target. “You taste that?”

The guy doesn’t answer.

Fingernails bite the palm of my hands, leaving clefts of crescent moons.

He drives his intention home. “That’s the taste of who the fuck she belongs to.”

The resistance against War is obvious when he disappears from my view. It’s admirable but stupid. It’s not what should bother me that does. It’s that he’s implied to everyone that I’m yet another girl he plays with.

“I’m glad I’ll never date a King.” River’s eyes roll, shifting her legs that are slung over the side of her chair.

“I hate you.” Humiliation strangles the words as my eyes prick with unshed tears.

Asshole. It wasn’t enough. It will never be enough for him.

“We know.” His stare holds me in place. “And if you keep it up, Priest’s trophy will have a mate.”

“Why do you care?” I’ve never been a yeller, but my arms fly out to my sides and the anger surging through me has no other outlet. I can’t let him have the last say.


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