Chapter Thirty-Two
‘You let him do what?’ Niamh’s face is twisted into a mask of disgust.
Sweet mother of all fuck.
I open an eye.
Sunlight.
Bedroom.
No Niamh.
My heart still hammers even as relief floods my veins. A dream, just a dream, though a nightmare might be a more accurate description. I roll my shoulders in an attempt to relax. Then I remember.
Look who’s been sleeping in my bed.
The sheet twists low on Kai’s torso, a suggestion of hipbone peeking from the pale wrapping and highlighted by the sun. His chest lifts and falls in a steady rhythm and I find myself holding my breath, matching his. Warmth radiates through me. He’s so very beautiful. He stayed and I love—
No. Not thinking about that today.
Shifting in the bed, I roll onto my side.Far out.My butt stings like a mother.A second wave of shame pounds me like a blow to the gut. I let him hit me.Women all over the world are being beaten and abused by men, and I let this man hurt me. For fun.
‘What’s wrong?’ The corner of his mouth quirks, eyes remaining closed in dark half-moons set against sand. One arm flung carelessly above his head, the other reaches to grab my hand. ‘Sixth sense,’ he says, barely audible through a huge yawn.
‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’
His eyes open, long lashes spiked with sleep as he rolls onto his side to face me.
‘Such sagacity, Mistress Kate. What gives?’ The warmth of his gaze catches me off guard as he places a chaste kiss against my knuckles. ‘Good morning, my beautiful girl.’
I swallow the ball of confusion, forcing it to the edges of my mind. And it’s not very difficult at this moment—I’m his beautiful girl, apparently. Plus this man’s smile would stun a nun. It’s not fair that he looks so... well, appetising this early. Sexy and stubbly with deliciously dishevelled hair. I just know I can’t match his mussed-up look this morning. I expect I look like chooks have nested in my hair.
‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ His words are light, even as his brows draw together.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ Nothing worth repeating, anyway. And I’m not thinking about last night. Because if I don’t think about it, I don’t have to deal with it. I can think of the now, the fact that he stayed, that he looks so lovely. Sleep ruffled and sexy.
‘How terrifically mendacious,’ he drawls, assurance returning to his tone. Extending his arms outwards, he stretches, causing the muscles in his chest and lats to flex and contract.
‘M—mendacious?’ I squeak, my voice unnaturally high. ‘Where’d you dig that beauty up, some archaic dictionary? Who uses words like that?’
‘I do,’ he says as though completelyobvious. ‘You just watched my lips form the word.’ He arches a brow, eyes alight. ‘And you like my mouth, don’t you?’ I hope it’s a rhetorical question. I just about love his mouth, his biteable bottom lip, his lickable bow. ‘I’m still waiting for an answer.’
‘Fishing for compliments, more like.’
‘Always,’ he says with an incline of his head. ‘But I’d still like to know what you’re thinking.’
‘Your ego doesn’t need any help.’
‘I’m not sure whether to be insulted or gratified that you think so highly of me.’ He frowns, though runs his knuckles against his lips in an attempt to hide a smile. ‘I’m going to go with wounded. Wounded. And still waiting.’
‘Yes, all right, I like your mouth,’ I murmur resignedly, adding a small sigh and a roll of my eyes. But I don’t just like his mouth—that ridiculous touch of softness on an otherwise angular face—I’m a sucker for his freckles, too.
His lips brush against my cheek. ‘But where, I wonder, do you like my mouth?’
‘You’re really bad!’ I squeak, swatting him with my hand. The squeak turns into a tremulous sort of moan as he pulls me against him, rolling us and somehow seating me high against his hips. With our hands entwined, he flexes his fingers and surges against me.
‘Good bad or bad, bad? I can be either, it’s up to you.’ His eyes smoulder as he brings my hand to his mouth, sucking the tips of my fingers before swiftly pulling me down against his chest. ‘Shall I tell you what else I like about your mouth?’ he whispers, ‘I like where it kisses me. I like its whispered words.’ Closing his eyes, he smiles secretly before feigning a breathy tone. ‘I especially love hearing it say,Fuck me Kai,please.’ I sag against him, fighting a lustful moan as he tucks his head into mine. ‘And I like my mouth full of you. Candy-flavoured mouth, sweet tasting cun—’
