A thrill coursed up my spine, my body immediately reacting to him in a carnal way. There was something about his strength, his power, that attracted me. I didn’t put up with bullshit, and it was rare to find a man with a spine and a cock made of steel.
“Do you understand me?” He didn’t tighten his grip, refusing to truly hurt me. Now that I’d experienced worse men, I realized I really was safer with Crewe than anyone else. At first, I thought his touches were harsh. But in actuality, they were gentle. They were full of lust rather than hatred.
“Yes.” I obeyed willingly, not wanting to push his temper. I could handle this version of him, the silently threatening one. If I didn’t push him further than necessary, he would never cause me pain.
“Yes, sir.”
Now that was something I couldn’t get on board with. “You’re lucky you got a yes out of me. Don’t push your luck.”
His eyes shifted as he stared into mine. The chopper came to life in the background, the propeller growing loud and the wind picking up. His hand never left my neck as he looked me dead in the eyes. His thumb brushed across my soft skin. Instead of growing angry at my disobedience, he seemed to soften.
He leaned in and closed the distance between us, giving me a hard kiss on the mouth. His free hand dug into my hair, getting a grip on the strands as his lips pressed against mine.
I didn’t pull away—because I liked it.
He wanted me to obey him and grew angry when I didn’t, but he seemed to respect me more when I held my ground. Two contradicting traits in a single man. It didn’t add up.
The kiss lasted for several seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Then he pulled away, his soft lips no longer warm against my mouth. He gave me a final look before he gripped me by the hand and pulled me to the helicopter. “Let’s go, Lovely.”
Glasgow was a large city in the western region, connected to a wide river that stretched out to the coast. Once we landed on the airstrip, I noticed the intricate architecture of all the buildings. They were Victorian and breathtaking. It seemed like I’d walked into the eighteenth century, with automobiles in the background.
Once the helicopter landed, Crewe’s men greeted us on the airstrip, all carrying guns in their holsters. In jeans and dark clothing, they looked like an undercover swat team. They escorted us to the back of a tinted town car, and we drove off through the city.
Crewe looked out the window, his knees wide apart as his fingertips rested on his lips. I recalled how it felt to sit in his lap, to straddle those hips and take his impressive cock. He was the biggest I’d ever taken, and when I fucked him, I really did feel like a virgin. I wasn’t used to having sex with a man like that.
We passed through the motorways until we exited the center of the city, moving through the greenery and the trees until we approached a gray castle made out of ancient slabs of stone.
I could hardly believe what I was looking at.
“Are we going there?” I asked, feeling dumb for asking the question. There was no other destination that the eye could see. There was nowhere else to go.
He kept his eyes out the window. “Yes.”
“Isn’t this property government-owned?”
“No.”
I stared at the towering piece of history as we came closer, realizing it was ten times the size of the average mansion. The fortifications were indestructible. It stood the test of time for hundreds of years. “Is it yours?”
“Yes.”
I knew he was rich, but who the hell could afford to buy a castle? “This place must have cost a fortune.”
“It didn’t cost me anything. I’m descended from the House of Alpin.”
I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. I didn’t know shit about world history. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means…”
“My bloodline comes from royalty. My ancestors used to rule over Scotland. I’m the last living descendant of the house. Therefore, it’s mine.”
My jaw dropped in shock. I knew there were some royal families in the world, like in England and a few other places, but I never thought I would meet a descendant of royal blood. “Wow… That’s unbelievable.”
He shrugged like it was only somewhat interesting.
“I don’t mean this offensively, but…you don’t look Scottish.”
“Because I don’t have red hair?” he asked with a bored voice. “Because I don’t have freckles and blue eyes? It’s called evolution, Lovely. I figured you would know that since you’re an aspiring doctor…”
“No need to be an ass,” I snapped. “It’s one thing to be Scottish and not look Scottish. It’s another to be of royal blood and not look the part. Like I said, I didn’t mean it offensively.”