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Slipping off the counter, I shove past him. “Where are you going?”
“Getting a bath.” Ripping my shirt over my head, I drop it to the floor. Because I’m sore and feel gross. I’m sure it’s why Milton brought me in here. If only I could wash him away, that’d be fucking swell.
Dropping in the plug, I turn on the faucet, grabbing a bottle of whatever off the side and pouring it in.
I know being here is for my safety, but I can’t help thinking he’s doing it for a different reason. Or he’s right, and I’m just romanticizing something that doesn’t exist. The result of a pesky crush I had on him when I didn’t know any better.
The confusion is as dark as the clouds in the sky. It’s going to rain. The wind is already picking up outside. A real storm to match the one inside. Milton’s still in the bathroom with his back to me as I strip. Dipping my foot into the steamy water, it’s hotter than I’d like, but I need to burn to wake up from the crazy few days I’ve had. To snap me out of wanting him.
Descending into the hot water and foam, I bite my tongue when my skin stings. Keeping my arm with the bandage dangling over the tub ledge, I dip my head underwater until I can’t keep myself down anymore. Milton’s in front of me when I resurface, staring down at me with loathing.
For a moment, I choke up. He’s looked at me like this before, but the animosity stings worse than the hot water.
He really does hate me.
Just as I think he’s about to storm out of here, leave like he’s so good at doing, he rips his shirt over his head. I can’t help but gape at him as he undoes his pants and drags them down along with his boxers. With his jaw clenched, he gets into the bath with me like he lost a battle he was fighting on the inside.
Wiping the water from my eyes, I can’t stop looking at him as my body throbs. Leaning back, he spreads his massive arms around the tub. He watches me too. Lips pressed firm and eyes moody in a way that tickles my insides. The water laps at my waist, and his eyes drop to my lips, then my breasts.
What’s burning in his eyes now is everything he’s trying to deny, and it’s enough for my cheeks to heat. He’s weak for me. Why else would he be trying so hard to stay away from me?
Those other women allowed him to detach himself. Be a fuck with no strings attached. But with me? It’s not a string. It’s rope. Binding around my neck, my wrists, and ankles. All tied up for the beast within to devour. And who I am inside? He wants her too. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Wetting my lips, I crawl to him while he continues staring at me. His body tenses as I run the hand of my unbandaged arm up his thigh. I lean over him, hair dripping water onto his bare chest. His head tilts back against the ledge, eyes hooded as he watches me. “Is this your attempt to come onto me?”
“Do you like it?” I swear he groans like he’s in agony. Something he’s trying to stop me from hearing and gaining the upper hand in this game we’re playing.
Taking my hips in his large hands, I gasp when he tugs me forward. Until my palms are flat on his chest and my legs on either side of him.
We both freeze when I feel him big and hard beneath me, the pulse so intense that one slight movement might cause an outright war.
Rain taps against the window as I lean forward and kiss the side of his mouth like he did to me moments before. He holds his breath as I travel down, kissing along the line of his jaw and then his neck. His moan is a husk of sexiness when he breathes out, coiling my insides tighter.
Good God, I want him to moan like that again.
And then something gives. Lifting me out of the water, a tidal wave splashes over the floor as Milton slams his palm into a door and carries me into a bedroom. I take nothing in, too caught up in him and how it feels with his hands gripping the curves of my ass, holding me firmly against him.
Flicking out my tongue, I lick his lips and exhale a shocked breath when he drops me. I fall back against a bed, my body wetting the soft sheets beneath me. Grabbing my arms, he pins them above my head before his lips drive against mine.
The kiss is rough and fierce. Like this, he’s in control. His hands squeezing my arms tremble, but my thoughts melt away as he dips his head and captures my pebbled nipple in his mouth. It only adds to the heat between my legs, and I moan loudly, burning up for him.
Sitting up, he runs restless hands down my thighs, barely containing the tremors affecting his entire body. Exhaling a frustrated breath, he shakes his head like he’s trying to get rid of the image he’s thinking.
I smile, knowing he’s thinking about everything he wants to do to me. His eyes narrow when he sees my smile, though his hands have other ideas, palming my breasts, fingers tweaking my nipples. My spine arches off the bed from the sensation.
“You’re not able for my world,” he says. “You don’t belong in it.”
“I’ll adapt. I’m good at that.” Meeting his stare, I put my hand against his chest, scraping my nails over his skin.
His hand covers my own, and my nails dig into his skin deeper. “You don’t get it. You’re not the type I bring around the club.”
“Why?” Leaning up, I graze his lips with mine. He doesn’t kiss me back but doesn’t pull away either. He lets me kiss him, want him, and need him in a way I never thought I would ever with anyone. “Tell me.”
“Ah, but then you might convince me to bring you back to my room and show you.”
I can’t swallow. “Is it because you don’t come?”
Wrong question.
Rolling onto his back, he lies beside me. My chest rises and falls hard, and I’m more confused than ever. The only light source comes from the window, which is dull because of the weather. As my eyes cross to his side, I make out the bulk of his thick biceps, muscular stomach, and massive length further down. He’s nothing but masculine strength—the ultimate killing machine.
And I’m dying for him.
“That’s about discipline. There’s a reason that I have rules, and when they’re not followed, I lose control… and each time, it’s getting more difficult to come back from. You make me lose control.”
Staring up at the blue shadowed ceiling, his warning is clear. If pushed too far, he could cause serious harm to whoever’s in the firing line. Keeping me safe means staying away from him. He needs control, and I take that all away.
He sits up, and the flame blows out. There’s nothing left in me to relight it. “This room is yours. Everything you need is here, and some staff I trust will arrive tomorrow. Get comfy—you’re going to be here for a while.”
Like an actual princess locked away in a tower. Tears tumble from my eyes as he gets up and leaves, closing the door softly behind him. As his footsteps drift down the hallway, I cry silently into the night, hugging a pillow to my chest and wishing it was him. Or the idea of someone who wants me for me.
