Page 65 of Sky’s Edge

“Yes,” he confirmed.

I waited.

He said no more.

“We’re supposed to fuck during a trial, Tanyn,” I reminded him.

“This is going fast for you.”

“Uh, duh,” I retorted.

His lips hitched.

I arched a brow. “Is something amusing?”

“Would you like me to fuck you?”

“Generally, yes, because you’re hot,” I was just that drunk enough to share. “Right now, no, because it’d be weird and because I just made a fool of myself.”

He assumed a baffled expression. “You did?”

I pointedly looked at the shattered remains of the wineglass and bottle on the floor then back to him.

“Just to say, while you were in the throes of your drama, I was in the throes of fighting my dick getting hard.”

I tossed out both hands. “So…hello.”

“Come here, Catla,” he said.

“You come here.”

“No, sweetheart, you come here.”

“I’m not going there.”

“I’m king.”

“I’m going to be queen.”

“Baby, I know you hate it, but my king will always trump your queen.”

I harrumphed.

Then, for some insane reason (I blamed the wine, and the earlier martini), I stomped to him.

He immediately ended the moratorium on touch because he pulled me into his arms.

That lean, hard body pressed to mine?

Heaven.

Shit.

“How about we agree to let it happen naturally,” he suggested.

“I’m naturally sleeping in bed beside you. In a sexy nightgown, I might add.”

“I didn’t miss the nightgown.”