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but it would’ve been nice to have eye candy without wanting to drop-kick him into the next century. Men. They always ruined it by opening their mouths.
“I’d rather you hate me alive than love me dead.” He released my shoulders. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“I suggest you stop lookin’ at me like that, Princess,” I said, my voice lethally soft. “Unless you plan on doing something about it.”
No, not even a second. A millisecond. But it was enough to send electricity sizzling up my arm and down my spine.
If Bridget were anyone but my client, I’d drag her into the bathroom, bend her over, and spank her ass raw for her insolent tone.
“Because you’re right. I do want you. But I don’t want to kiss or make love to you. I want to fuck you. I want to punish you for mouthing off and letting another man put his hands on you. I want to yank up that tiny fucking dress of yours and pound into you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days. I want all those things, even though I can’t have them. But if you don’t stop looking at me like that…” I tightened my grip on her chin and throat. She stared at me in the mirror, her lips parted and her eyes dark with heat. “I might take them anyway.”
“Perhaps…” Rhys’s touch skimmed down my neck and over the curve of my shoulder. I shivered, my skin blossoming with a thousand more goose bumps. “I was always meant to find my way to you.”
Breathe. Even when there was no oxygen, no air,
nothing but him. Breathe.
Perhaps it was. But I wouldn’t think about that now, not when our bodies pressed so tightly against each other we might as well be one, and I was falling, falling into an abyss I never wanted to get out of.
“And, Princess…don’t bother wearing any underwear.”
“I have lots of plans for you, Princess, and every single one ends with my fingers, tongue, or cock inside your sweet little cunt.”
Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself in her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would.
“Remember. In public, you’re my princess, but in private, you’re my whore.”
“You asked me if I’d ever been in love. I said no.” He pressed a soft kiss to my mouth. “Ask me again, Princess.” My lungs constricted. Breathe.
“They’re. All. Forks,” I bit out. “They serve the same function.”
“I’d like to see you try to use an oyster fork to eat steak.”
I was one second away from stabbing Andreas with one of his beloved forks.
“You’re dating a princess now. You can’t go around stabbing people.”
It was the feeling of having a family.
