Page 42 of LA King

I grab a paper towel and wipe my thighs before stalking back to the den. I feel on edge and definitely a little used. He was such a considerate lover last night and this morning, even when he was rough. But was that just because it was our first time—and second and third and fourth? Maybe now it will always be like this, where I’m left to take care of myself. Which I could, of course, but it would be bland compared to Alejandro.

Twenty minutes must have passed by the time Alejandro seeks me out, finding me reading in the den, panties firmly back on.

“There you are, princesa,” he says, nonchalant, as if he didn’t act like a complete asshole to me.

I don’t bother looking up from my book.

He comes to stand in front of me and has the audacity to laugh. “Are you mad at me because I didn’t make you come?”

“No, I am not,” I snap.

“Because I know the timing was fucked up, but I had to take that call.”

“It’s all good.” I turn the page of my book and focus on it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world when all I really want to look at is the Adonis in the finely tailored suit standing about six inches away.

He drops to his knees, takes my book, and tosses it on the sofa next to me. I don’t have time to protest before he grabs me by the hips and pulls me toward him.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“What does it look like? Quiero comerte el coño.” He gives me a wicked grin and pushes my dress up past my thighs.

That grin disappears when he sees my panties. “What the fuck are these, Alana?”

“Um, panties. I thought we were done.” I shrug, trying to come off indifferent when my legs are already shaking with both fear and excitement. He looks super pissed.

“You thought we were done?” His tone is dangerous and seductive. “We haven’t even started. You think I’d just come home and fuck you like that and not take care of you after? But, you know what, even if we were done, I told you no fucking panties! I told you that I wanted access to you at all fucking times. In that respect, we are never done, are we?”

Jesus, he’s really serious about the whole no-panty thing. “Okay,” I whisper.

“No, it’s not okay, Alana.” He tosses me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and strides out of the den with my ass in the air. We pass one of his armed guards, who to his credit doesn’t bat an eyelid at the situation.

I hit him on the back with my fists. “Put me down!”

He slaps my ass—hard. “I told you there would be consequences for disobeying me.”

“Where the hell are you taking me?” I screech, but he doesn’t answer. I want to die of shame as we pass another guard in the hallway right before my devil husband calmly opens his study.

He kicks the door shut and finally sets me on my feet. Filled with anger, anticipation, and a healthy dose of fear, I back away from him until my ass bumps against his desk. That thunderous look on his face is terrifying, and I have no idea why this whole situation has me so turned on.

He closes the distance between us in one stride, his gaze fierce, and bunches my dress up around my waist. With one quick tug, he tears my panties off me and stuffs the shredded material in his pocket.

“That’s one of my favorite pairs of panties you’ve just ruined.”

“I’ll destroy all your goddamn panties if you don’t start doing as you’re told,” he growls. “Now turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn. Around.”

I don’t ask for clarification, expecting he won’t give it anyway. I’m half naked and craving release after what happened in the kitchen, so surely this can only end one way. Right? I spin on my heel to face his desk, then I wait in breathless anticipation of what he’s planning.

“Bend over the desk.”

I swallow a knot of trepidation but do as I’m told and lean forward until my cheek is pressed against the cool mahogany. I suck in a deep breath, wondering if he intends to fuck me like this, and the thought alone makes my core contract.

But he doesn’t fuck me.

It’s the rush of air I feel first of all, right before his palm lands on my ass. “Ow! That hurt.” My hands fly back instinctively, and I cover my bare backside in an attempt to shield myself from any further assault. What the hell?