My stomach twisted into knots at the way he said it—queen of my heart. His deep voice sent a wave of heat through me, the thud of my heart a betrayal of the relief and desire that flickered despite my earlier anger. It was impossible not to react to him. My body seemed to do it on reflex.
But the fear still lingered, pressing into the corners of my mind. He was trying to distract me, to shift the conversation, and it almost worked. Almost.
“I’m serious,” I managed, though my voice wavered slightly. “What did you do?”
“You’d be happy to know I didn’t kill him. Although I’m not sure he can use his legs after tonight.”
My heart dropped into my stomach, dread washing over me. Someone might not be able to walk again just because he touched the wrong person. I swallowed hard, trying to push away the image of the guy crumpled on the floor.
But I forced myself to repeat it in my head—he’s alive, he’s alive. And that was all that mattered, right? When there was life, there was hope. He was not dead.
Yes, I was starting to see this as a normal thing. I needed therapy.
I was back to staring at the sweaty people, at the makeups that were gradually digging into ruins. He hadn’t told me why he screened my calls and texts. I’d been distracted from that question.
“My texts?”
He pulled me close, vein corded, tattooed arm wrapped around my waist tightly. “Just saw them an hour ago. I’ve been busy. Let me make it up to you.”
“Busy? That isn’t very vague at all. I was so worried, Theon. And angry. Very angry.”
“I will explain later. Let me show you how sorry I am that I worried you, yeah?”
“Show me? How?”
The second the words left my lips, he rolled his hip slightly and slipped his hand under my lace skirt. The skirt was so short that he didn’t need to raise it.
“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” He ran his rough palm over my ass cheek, then dug his nails into the flesh. “You had to show me how hard you needed to be fucked in this.”
I gasped, clenching the cup as he drilled the words into my ears. I was wetting my thong already.
“Do you want me to touch you, Queen of Hearts?”
I nodded.
I jolted when he pushed my feet apart with his legs so he could have a better access to my pussy from behind.
“Speak.”
“Yes.” I could almost cry the word.
His fingers went to my entrance, drawing a finger back to feel me wetting the fabric. Suddenly, he pulled the thong covering my clit back, and I thought he would move it to the side and touch me, but no, he dragged it away and let it snap back on my pussy.
A breath escaped me forcefully. My legs would have given out if he wasn’t holding me by the waist.
“Keep a straight face. I don’t want anyone knowing what you look like with my fingers inside you.”
“They can barely see us,” I said, needing him to slide those said fingers into where they were meant to be.
“Even if.”
He didn’t touch me.
“Fine. Okay. I’ll try.” I would try to act unbothered while he pumped in and out of me. Fair.
He didn’t tease anymore, he tugged the thong to the side and glided his fingers into my wet walls, pulling out and pushing back in immediately. My grip on the cup was bruising, my other hand in need of something to hold so I could keep a straight fucking face like it was possible.
“Hmm...you’re drenching my hand so fast.” His words were slow, a big contrast to what he was doing inside me. The only similarity between his fingers and his voice was how deep they were. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
