Page 145 of Reign

His attention follows me through the entire turn.

By the time I face him again, his eyes have darkened and the muscle in his jaw has drawn tight.

Oh, he likes what he sees.

Good.

“Color?”

“Annoyingly green.” I plant one hand on my hip. “What are we doing? Do you want me to take off the rest or not?”

“Come here.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“It was an instruction.”

Heat curls low in my stomach.

I cross the rug toward him.

His eyes hold mine until I’m standing directly between his spread knees.

“Kneel for me, Elena.”

The command slips through me warm and heavy.

I lower myself onto the rug, knees parting the way he taught me, hands settling behind my back.

The position feels entirely different in lace.

More exposed.

Far more interesting.

I look up at him. “Are you taking off your pants?”

“Is that a request, princesa?”

My pulse jumps. “I want to see it.”

His smirk is devastating.

“I had something else planned. Are you sure this is what you want instead?”

Yes.

The answer is immediate and embarrassingly loud in my head. My brain supplies it with confetti and a full marching band.

But I want to know what he planned more.

“Hm, tempting,” I say. “But no. Not yet.”

His eyes darken slightly. “Not yet.”

I hate the way he repeats it like a promise.

“I want to know what you planned.”