King’s Trophy Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)

Mason Campbell is bored with life. He has everything he's ever wanted—money, power, and any woman at the snap of his fingers. After working his way out of the gutter, he is now king. People fear him. And he’s bored. Until he looks across the dance floor at one of his nightclubs to see a stunning woman dressed in red. He has to have her.

Holly Allan is finally free from a loveless marriage to a cheating jerk. Nine years she devoted her life to a man who didn’t know how to be faithful. When Mason enters her life, she’s not looking for anything long term. She’s not ready to trust men. Mason is not taking no for an answer.

He sees the passion in her eyes, the yearning. Her husband didn’t know the treasure he had, but Mason does. One taste was never going to be enough and he’s not letting Holly get away. He’s going to keep her. He knows what it's like to go without, to beg, to crave. What he cannot do is allow his life to touch Holly’s. He’s a bad man, a monster, and he has made a lot of enemies. But what will he do when her ex-husband is determined to tell her the truth about who Mason really is?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Mason Campbell was fucking bored.

Leaning his head back in the booth, he closed his eyes. Even the whiskey didn’t help to numb this feeling. At forty-five years old, he had everything he dreamed of having. Actually, he had a lot more than he ever dreamed of having. The music filled the air, not giving any real time to hear people talking, or to think, but he was able to drown it out.

His thoughts drifted back to when he was a kid. He had nothing. No parents, no real home, nothing to his name. The people at the foster homes he was bounced between had always told him he’d never amount to anything. He’d just go through life being a lazy drunk bum.

None of them had known the monster they would create.

Every single one of them had eaten their words because not only had he amounted to something, he was the most powerful man in the city, and everyone feared him, as they should.

No one would ever fucking oppose him. He’d make them all suffer and he’d do so gladly. He’d visited all those men and women from his past who dared raise a hand to him, allowed them to see just how powerful he’d gotten. He watched the fear fill their eyes, the panic, the understanding that he could, if he wanted to, take them out. He hadn’t. No.

He wasn’t a cruel man, but he made sure they never fostered any more children. From time to time, he’d make sure to be seen in their neighborhood, to keep instilling the fear. Of course, not all the men and women from his past had gotten an easy ride. He’d killed those he knew were dirty, filthy scumbags. Their deaths had been easy to handle.

Mason knew he had it all. Women fawned all over him. Most of them just wanted to earn the reputation of being with the most feared man in the city. It was fun in the beginning but that had long since lost its appeal. He had no interest in the sluts that vied for his attention.

The music in the nightclub changed, became sensual, almost erotic in nature. It was Valentine’s Day so he expected it, but something made him open his eyes and as he did, he saw her.

One woman, dressed in red. The bodice of her dress molded to her tits, and seemed to press them together to outline a perfect cleavage. The dress seemed to curve in at the waist before flaring out with the skirt seeming to have splits all around, giving a hint of leg or thigh. She had long, black hair, naturally curly, or so it seemed. No man was with her.

She had completely captivated an audience. There were couples on the dance floor trying to get their men’s attention away from the woman, but she didn’t seem to care who looked at her.

Her eyes were closed as she danced, moving her hips to the beat of the music, and it was hypnotic to watch. The people faded away and Mason watched her, imagining this dance was for him and him alone.

The woman oozed sex. It was like she was designed for a cock, his cock. He could imagine putting his hands on her waist, thrusting his dick inside her, and riding her until she screamed his name and begged for more. Those lips, painted a dark red, would look so good wrapped around his length. An instant hit of heat rushed through his body and for the first time in months, Mason didn’t feel bored. He felt alive.

Tipping his whiskey to the back of his throat, he watched her. The couples on the floor moved out of her way as she let the beat of the music fill her body, and gave her the space to dance. She seemed almost untouchable.

He knew the song was coming to an end, and he’d never seen this woman before. She wasn’t a regular at his nightclubs and she certainly didn’t work for him.

When he clicked his fingers, one of his men quickly came to his side.

“Who is that woman?” he asked.

The man glanced at the dance floor and even he wore a flush to his cheeks. Her dancing had affected so many men.

All of her curves were barely on display, more of a glimpse here and there, nothing too revealing. Yet there were women wearing a hell of a lot less who were not getting a single bit of attention.

The music came to a close and the woman simply left the dance floor.

“I, er, I don’t know, sir.”

“Find out.”

Mason got to his feet, leaving his empty whiskey glass on the table, and made his way toward the bar, only to see the woman wasn’t there. She hadn’t gone to the bathroom, which meant she had left.