It’s dark when we pull into my driveway, and I just want a bath and wine. I’m not sure how much more I can take of him. It was bad before the locker room, but now it’s almost unbearable. He’s seething every time I see him, and I don’t know what to do. And every time he walks in the room, it’s like someone flips a switch and lights me up from the inside.
I don’t want to want him, but I do. And it hurts.
He shuts off the SUV, and by now, I know the drill. I follow his rules quietly so I can avoid another confrontation with King, because the sharp edge of his tongue is lethal. He climbs out of the vehicle, and I follow out my door and wait for him to unlock the house. Then I stand just inside while he checks every room in the house for intruders.
“It’s clear,” he says when he comes back down the stairs.
“Thanks,” I respond quietly, avoiding his eyes. “Have a good night, King. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I move to walk past him to head up to my bedroom for that bath. Once I know he’s settled for the night, I might come back down for that bottle of wine. The tension in my neck and shoulders is killing me. I just want out of these clothes. With or without the wine, I don’t care. I just need out of his presence.
“So who’s real?” he asks snidely.
“What?” I ask as I rub my temples. I’m not sure what he’s asking, and I don’t have it in me to play his dangerous games.
“Which one is the real you?” he asks me again. “The sex kitten or the daddy’s girl?”
“Both.” I shrug as I answer.
“Or maybe they’re both an act,fresa,” he says as he prowls toward me.
“What do you want from me, King? I’m tired of playing these games.”
“Which one are you?”
“I told you. I’m exactly what you see,” I say tiredly.
“Bullshit,fresa,” he replies, calling me the name I don’t understand again, and I just snap.
“You know what? Fuck you, King.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
“What?” I gasp, but it’s too late. King pulls me into his arms and crushes his mouth down to mine. The kiss is raw and it’s real, all teeth and lips and tongues, both of us never getting our fill of the other as we rip and pull at clothing right there in the entryway of my house.
He whips my top over my head and throws it to the floor while I slide my hands under his T-shirt, letting my nails rake over his abs. I push the fabric up as high as I can before he grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls it off.
And then his mouth is back on mine, biting and nipping as he works my belt from my jeans. I back away from him and try to catch my breath. Can I do this? Should I do this? It’s careless and rash and stupid. I shouldn’t play with fire with a man like King, but I also can’t stay away, the way that he burns me up.
And there’s my answer. Stupid or not. I’m going to take what he’s offering. This time, I know the score. King is not mine to keep.
I pop the button on the top of my jeans and pull the zipper down. I watch him watching me as I push the material down my thighs, and then I step out of them. I stand in the middle of the living room in a light-pink lace thong and matching strapless bra.
I smirk at the hungry look on his face, and then I turn on my heel and run as fast as I can to the stairs. I don’t hear him chasing me and think maybe he didn’t feel like putting in the work when he could have a sure thing. I let out a squeak when an arm wraps around my bare middle halfway up the stairs.
“You’ll pay for that,fresa,” he growls as he leans into me, and I drop to my hands and knees on the stairs.
My back is to him when his hands grab the sides of my panties and pull them down my legs, exposing the most intimate part of me to him. I try to crawl up the steps, but it must have been the wrong thing to do, because he grabs my thighs in his hands, and then his mouth is on me. His tongue spears my center, and he does not let up as he eats me savagely.
“Yes,” I pant and toss my head back.
I rock against his mouth as he destroys me one brutal kiss at a time. I gasp and call out his name as I come, and then he flips me to my back and looms over me. His golden eyes burn into my blue ones as he cups my pussy in a show of ownership.
I’m lost to him, caught in his hold over me, and I watch as he sinks a finger into me. My eyes close, and I dig my nails into the carpeted treads of the stairs as he pumps his finger in and out of me. My eyes fly open when he adds a second, and it feels like my body is slowly catching fire again. I haven’t yet caught my breath. But it’s when his thumb scrapes against my sensitive clit that I know I’ll never breathe again.
“King,” I gasp.
“That’s right.”
