Page 29 of Slay King

“No,” he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him.

Unable to look at him or his shirt, I glared at the wall to my left. “You have lipstick on your shirt,” I snapped as my chest felt like it was going to explode.

His hands tightened their grip on me. “We had to act. Sell the relationship.”

“With her lips on you?”

King took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing my face in his direction. I refused to look at him though. I stared at his chest instead.

“Look at me, Rumor,” he demanded.

“No! You come back from making out with another woman and pull a gun on your friend for letting me use his hoodie! That is not fair.”

King released my chin, but he buried his hands in my hair, holding on to both sides of my head and tilting it back until I had to meet his gaze or close my eyes. “I didn’t make out with Scotlin. I endured her. It was fucking hell. One I couldn’t wait to get away from. All I thought about was getting back here to you. Then, I walked in and saw you in another man’s hoodie. Yeah, I reacted poorly. Rage is a hard bitch, and I had no control over it. I should probably apologize, but I won’t because if I ever see another man’s clothes on your body again, I will shoot him, I swear to God.”

Did I believe him? He hadn’t made out with her? Had he kissed her at all? What did it mean that he had to make it believable? How affectionate did they get?

“She put her lips on you,” I said.

“I didn’t want it. I didn’t enjoy it,” he replied in a softer tone. “Come take a shower with me.”

I shook my head. “We did that earlier.” I also wasn’t ready to just let this go. Move on. I was considering sleeping on the sofa.

“I want to wash Sebastian’s fucking hoodie from your body and Scotlin’s shit off me. Please, sweets.”

I sighed in frustration at myself. At this situation I had gotten into and the fact that I wanted to please him, even after he pulled a gun on his friend over something so dumb. It wasn’t healthy, this thing we were doing. At least not for me. He had too much control over me, and I was the one giving it to him.

Glaring up at him, I clenched my teeth. “Fine. But I want that shirt burned. And the next time you come back with her lipstick on you, I am moving back to Maeme’s.”

“It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”

I nodded, feeling somewhat better.

He ran his hand through my hair and wrapped a strand of my curls around one of his fingers. “Are we good?” he asked.

I didn’t know if that was the word I would use. But there was no other option, except to just walk away. Demand to go back to Maeme’s. Shut him out.

I wouldn’t do that though. It would be too painful. The idea of not having him at all was becoming something I couldn’t accept. Even if he was unhinged and deranged.

“Yes,” I replied.

He leaned down, and his mouth covered mine. One flick of his tongue against my bottom lip, and I opened for him. My body seemed to do its own thing where King was involved. Even if I wanted to put up walls and protect myself, I couldn’t. I craved him in ways that would most likely destroy me.

The deep hum of pleasure in his chest vibrated against me. There was one thing I was sure of. King Salazar wanted me. He made that very clear. It was another hold he had on me. No one had ever made me feel this wanted, this desirable. He showed me what it was like to lose myself to pleasure. Perhaps I was going to become addicted to him. Or I already was.

“I want you in the shower, sweets,” he said as his hands bunched up the fabric of my tank top until it was over my breasts. “Get naked.”

I lifted my arms, and he took it the rest of the way off. Then, he went for his shirt as his eyes locked on my chest.

“Take off the bra.”

My hands trembled as I reached behind me to unhook it while he made quick work of his shirt and shrugged out of his jacket. When the lace cups fell free and the bra slid down my arms, he sucked in a breath as an evil smile curled his lips.

“Fuck, I needed that view. Now, get the bottoms off for me and don’t wear them again. They’re too short.”

I paused at the button of my shorts. “Are you serious?”

He tossed the shirt I wanted burned to the ground. “Deadly.”

---