The Scotch King (Scotch 1)

“For the last time, I’m not jealous.”

“I think you are.” I smiled because I enjoyed the idea of her growing upset when she pictured me with other women. “And I don’t want to take them. I want to take you.”

“Not even your French diplomat?”

I told her about Sasha? I couldn’t even recall the conversation. And if I couldn’t remember it, it was a shock that she did. “Sasha?”

“Whatever her name is,” she said coldly. “Wouldn’t you want to take her to this thing?”

“She’s already met the queen—multiple times. And no, I’d rather take you.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

My fingers moved to her neck. “No.” I gave her a firm stare, telling her there was no way around it. “You can bitch and moan, though. Until I tell you your time is up.”

London knew complaining was a waste of time. “I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. Just be yourself.”

“So I should walk in there and tell everyone that I’m being held against my will?” She challenged, being the smartass she was.

I missed that fiery attitude. “If you did, I think everyone would assume you were crazy.”

“Not if they know you…”

I leaned in and gave her another kiss, wanting something to hold me over while I showered. “I’m going to shower. When I get out, we’re back to what we were.”

She kissed me with the same sensuality even though she didn’t have to.

And that really made me feel like a king.

16

London

He finished up in the bathroom then walked into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. Drops of water still glistened on his chest, and his hair was still damp. He was all muscle and power.

I tried not to stare.

He’d been gone all day and all night. When he walked in the door, it was almost midnight. He said he had worked all day, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if that was really true. Was he spending time with his regulars? He said he had a few in Glasgow. I’d have to be really dense to think our arrangement would change his promiscuity.

He dropped the towel, his ass looking nice and tight. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and nothing else since he was going to bed soon. And he slept in the nude, so the boxers weren’t really necessary either.

I sat at the edge of the bed and tried to ignore his obvious hotness.

He crawled on the bed and came up behind me, his face moving into my neck with decadent kisses. Hot breaths filled my ear, and he yanked my t-shirt over my shoulder, exposing more skin to caress.

As much as I hated being bossed around all the time, I did love his affection. The sex was good, and I got as much out of it as he did. If I weren’t attracted to him, this would be scarring. But since I was satisfied every night with the tender caresses, it really wasn’t that bad.

It was important to remain positive.

Joseph would come for me, or I would make my escape. I just had to be patient.

Crewe pulled me down on the bed then leaned over me, so he was upside down. He sprinkled kisses along my chin, his face cleanly shaven. His lips moved to mine, and he gave me a soft kiss, the kind that made my toes curl.

His touch felt nice, but then an image of Sasha came into my mind, a beautiful woman that I could never compare to. I moved from underneath him and sat up. “I want to ask you something.”

He gave me an ice-cold look. “You don’t get to ask me anything unless I give you my permission.”

When he was dominant like this, there was nothing I could do but listen. I had to bite back the retort on my tongue and not slap him across the face. I had to submit, to surrender. “And do I have your permission?”

He pulled me back to the bed then adjusted me underneath him. My clothes were still on, so he yanked my top off then unclasped my bra with a single hand. “Make it quick.” He yanked off my leggings and took my panties with them.

When I looked at his hard body, I felt my own become soft and wet. My pussy throbbed for his definition to fill me. I wanted to deny that I enjoyed being manipulated into sex, but I couldn’t do it anymore. It was the best sex I’d ever had. “Were you with another woman tonight?”

He pulled off his boxers, showing his throbbing cock. He gave me an aggressive look, like the question displeased him. “What does it matter?”

“Because I don’t want to catch anything. So if you’re sleeping around, then I have the right to ask for a condom.”

“You don’t have the right to do anything.” He yanked me underneath him and positioned himself on top of me. He rocked his hips and rubbed his cock through my slickness. He leaned down and dragged his tongue across the valley between my tits, kissing my neck at the very end. “I will fuck you exactly how I want to fuck you.” He shoved his cock violently inside me, stretching my insides without giving my body any warning.