“That’s the undeniable sexual attraction between us. I feel like I need a shower and you’ve barely touched me. But you know that too, don’t you?”
His mouth quirked, but nothing was funny. I pointed a finger at his chest and advanced. Humor lit up his face as he took steps back from my fury.
“You think this is funny, but maybe that’s all we have is sex,” I deadpanned, with a questioning quirk to my eyebrows. “And I refuse to be your consort, Mr. King.”
The curve of his mouth flattened to a straight line. Though his back was flush against the wall, he moved like a snake strike.
“Consort,” he snorted. “If you haven’t already realized, you rule my heart.” The damnable organ stuttered in my chest. “That’s one thing Margaret had right.” When had he spoken to her? A hot spike of jealousy lanced my gut. “You are a queen. You could checkmate me right now.”
I’d never learned chess but knew the term and laughed. “I don’t even rule your dick,” I mocked, remembering that picture of him with the woman, not believing him for one minute.
Embers of fire burned in his eyes as he held on to my gaze. We could have been in Scotland by the thickness of his brogue as he spoke.
“Yer don’t rule it. Yer own it.” He snagged my hand and cupped it against the hard muscle between his legs straining to break free. “I want to fuck yer and spank that pretty ass of yers. In fact, I want to yank up that peasant skirt from the dirt and ball it up around yer waist with yer legs wrapped so tightly around me there will be no beginning and ending to us as yer gaggin fer it. In fact, what I really want is yer smart mouth filled with my cock so yer dinnae say any more mince. Damn right, we have sexual compatibility. That’s not all we have, though,” he retorted.
He was pissed, slipping more into his native tongue. Yet somehow I got the gist of what he was saying and couldn’t stop myself from egging him on.
“You really think so, because I think it’s that damn commanding voice of yours that makes me want to follow yer every order,” I mocked, in a half-convincing Scottish accent toward the end and pulled my hand free. “That’s part of the reason I left this place. I do-nae want to be told what to do.”
His lips twitched,but he held on to a glower.
Gruffly, he shook his head and said more to himself, “Tha gaol agam ort. A bheil thu a’ tuigsinn na tha mi ag ràdh?”
Before I could ask him to translate, he went on and said, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to lose control, lass. For yer, maybe it’s just in the bedroom where you like to be dominated.”
That word. I’d heard all about that word recently. I gave him another. “I’m no sub.”
“No, lass, yer not.”
“And what do you know of it? Is that your thing? Because if it is, this can’t work.” I’d hold firm to that.
“This?” he questioned, pointing between us. “Yer admitting there’s an us?”
Damn him for his accent. When it was thick like this, as if he’d stepped out of the pages of a historical novel set in the Highlands, I couldn’t have wanted his arrogant bodice ripping arse more.
But I wasn’t ready to admit defeat.
“Are you going to translate what you said?” I asked, quirking a brow.
“You said us, not me,” he challenged, sidestepping my question.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just letting you know that’s not me.”
“Aye. That’s not what I’m about either,” he said. “Though I admit I like orchestrating what happens in the bedroom. But I don’t want to totally rule over any woman I’m with.” His tone changed like we were speaking conspiratorially and he lost some of that Scottish accent I adored. “You have that fight in yer, but in the bedroom you want me to take control. I’m fine with it as are you. It works for us.”
I didn’t deny it. “I need tenderness too,” I admitted.
“Yes, lass,” he said, touching my cheek. “Right now after you’ve made me chase yer, I want to fuck you hard and fast. But after, I can give you slow and steady.”
“Kalen,” I said, removing his hand from my face.
“I know. As much as I want all those things, I won’t fuck yer until I know that you’re finished with him.”
He straightened as if he were going to leave me there.
Unable to look at him, I stared off at the darkening sky. The sun had never made an appearance, so dusk came a lot faster.
He didn’t leave. Instead, he asked me a question so slowly, the danger in it became tangible. “Have you let him have you?”
If I could tell a lie, I knew he might have walked away, making things so much easier.