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“Umm... maybe? Should we not talk of war and rebellion?” She was babbling but couldn’t stop. “Princess to... to criminal lord?”
His lip rose, revealing more of his teeth. Had she angered him? She was fairly sure fucking him in her bathroom was also not the best way to begin a business relationship.
Chapter Eleven
What he saw in her bathroom seemed to jar him, if only for a second. She looked around the large room, at the square plunge bath bubbling with foamy water, at the silver mirror that formed one wall and the matching square area where her shower lay. Silver and blue accents set off white walls. The fresco of a lush garden gave this an open-air feel, despite the windows being too high to see through. It sufficed, though she needed to redecor—
“Stand against the shower wall, face out.” He clicked his fingers and pointed, forefinger rigid.
Having recovered from his onslaught, she hesitated.
His stare hardened.
Unsure if he scared her or had merely shoved her into moving by pure sexual force, she padded to the wall beneath the overhanging showerhead then slowly turned, planting her butt against the cool wall and her palms to either side, as if to keep herself in place.
The mere presence of this mauleon male seemed to thicken the air, to steam it with a heaviness that promised hard, relentless sex that would leave her hurting.
Her pussy ached from what he’d done last time. A nice ache. Her eyelids drooped as she remembered being made love to on his table. Or fucked as he’d call it.
Fucked made it sound filthier.
Slowly he advanced, swaggering, fully clothed in his battle-soiled clothes. His gaze molested her.
“I love how you obey me.” Drake was a step away from touching her. Her next breaths were dragged through parted lips.
She had obeyed. That irked her and Calli wrinkled her nose. If she had it, this torm was rendering her brainless, but who wouldn’t find him sexy, irresistible, and scary? She wriggled against the wall, hypnotized by this mountainous hunk of mauleon.
His clothes were dark hued. The ashes showed mostly on the muscles of his arms, and on his face. He’d left a pile of weapons and holsters on her bedroom floor.
Something made her dare to murmur, “Are you going to eat me, this time?”
He catalogued her from feet to upper legs, to her pussy and the triangle of her sex, where her beauty servant had left a thin wedge of hair. His gaze loitered there.
“Maybe.”
The heat rose in her.
