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“I’m not,” I reply fast and he doesn’t miss it, so I add, “You’re avoiding me.”
He lets out a little chuckle and bends low to kiss me softly on the lips before pulling me in close, his body flush against mine and his arms strong around me.
My arms find his waist and circle back around him, and we stand like that for minutes, letting the silence wash over us.
But my head is loud and clear. I can’t let King consume me any longer.
“What are you thinking about so loudly?” King breaks the silence after a beat. I tense in his arms and he pulls back slightly to look down at me. His eyes scan my face, lingering on my lips, and under the pressure, I lick my bottom lip.
King takes that as his invitation and presses his lips firmly against mine, then pushes me back into the room, closing the door behind him with his foot.
And even though I know I shouldn't, I kiss him back and let him lead me to the bed.
My legs hit the edge of the mattress and I fall onto it, King crawling above me moments later, our lips never breaking contact.
“You’re a bit overdressed for this time of night, aren’t you?” King jokes, bringing his lips back to mine, his hand rubbing up and down my jean-clad legs, and my whole world comes back to reality and what I was planning to do.
After King claimed my murder on the phone with my father, I haven’t seen him once. I haven’t seen anyone. King knows I know. Dax would’ve told him. So why the act? To lure me back into this false pretence that he does in fact love me?
My heart rate quickens again and panic floods through my veins.
I reach my hand down the side of the bed and stretch my fingers as I fumble for the handle of the knife I’ve hidden under the mattress. Our lips are rough and passionate as we battle it out with our tongues, fighting for love and for revenge. A goodbye.
Finally, my fingers feel the cold of the handle and I wrap my hand around it firmly and pull it swiftly out from under the mattress. Pulling my head back from King, I disconnect our lips and in one swing, lift my arm to put the blade under King’s neck, the point already digging into his throat.
In one clean move, at exactly the same time I draw my knife, King’s arm swings around his back and within seconds his gun is pressed harshly into the side of my head.
His expression is emotionless aside from his eyebrows that are drawn together slightly. I try not to show any emotion myself even though the barrel of his gun to my temple terrifies me. But I knew it was coming to this.
We’re silent for many seconds, King hovering over me, my knife held against his throat and his gun pressed firmly to my temple, our lips swollen and red.
He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing against the edge of my knife before he speaks.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Theodora?” he questions, moving his head back slightly. But my hand follows and the knife never leaves his neck. King cocks his head at my actions.
His thumb flicks off the safety on his gun in retaliation and my eyes flicker to the gun at my head.
“Dax told me you were outside. You heard me talking to your father?” he questions, but it’s more of a statement.
I keep still, my eyes latched onto his, my lips sealed shut.
Realising I’m not going to answer, King leans forward, his neck pressing against the sharp blade. Drops of blood slip down the knife and onto my hand, then drip onto my own neck as he hovers over me.
“You won’t kill me,” I whisper, not even believing myself.
A drop of blood lands right on my bottom lip and cascades down my chin, and King’s eyes lock onto it, watching it descend down my throat. His eyes light up and he leans in even closer, the knife still digging into his neck.
“Won’t I?” he challenges, then dips his head and trails his hot, wet tongue over the drip of blood, starting at the base of my throat and up to my lower lip. My pussy throbs as he licks and I curse my body for betraying me. Still, I keep my expression impassive.
“Or will you kill me first?” He smiles.
My hand tightens around the handle of the knife, my knuckles going white with the pressure. King pulls the gun away from my temple but slowly glides it down my cheek and over to my mouth, rubbing it across my lower lip, tracing where his tongue had been.
My chest heaves up and down heavily, my breathing frantic as he pushes the barrel of the gun between my parted lips.
“And I thought nothing would look more satisfying than my cock in this mouth,” King taunts.
In slow movements, I release my solid grip around the handle and lower the knife away from his neck and to my side, waving my white flag in surrender.
