The wine was heating his blood, and Gryphen knew he was going to be beyond horny.
He was about to be insatiable.
And Ian was the reason. Who knew that this little fantasy would make him feel like this?
As they ate, Ian was acutely aware that Gryphen was watching him. His eyes tracked all of his movements like he was prey.
And he loved it.
Honestly, he didn’t want to eat.
Well, not food.
He wanted Gryphen in the worst way.
“Are you not hungry?” Gryphen asked Ian, knowing exactly why he wasn’t eating. He was anticipating what was to come just like him.
“I’m thinking about our agreement.”
“What about it?” he asked.
“Why me?”
Gryphen drained his glass of wine, and poured more as he thought out his next move. When he refilled Ian’s glass, Ian looked down and saw his prosthetic leg, and it sent chills through his body.
Here was his warrior.
With his prosthetic leg, he looked strong, powerful, and it was a constant reminder of exactly what kind of man he was.
A hero.
“Because I wanted you. I enjoyed watching you in your suit all of those times, and I couldn’t have you. You were just out of my reach. Now, you’re not.”
He knew he meant the White House.
God.
Ian wished he was the kind of man who hadn’t been so damn self-absorbed. He wished he had been more open to seeing what had been right before him.
Gryphen.
Had he been a better person, he could have been with Gryphen well before now.
“Only, then, you were unobtainable, Mr. Patterson, even though I wanted you then too. I would watch you and dream about a moment where I could trap you in a closet and touch you,” he admitted, and it was all true.
Ian swallowed.
“My Lord,” he whispered as he was feeling feverish and desperate.
Only, Gryphen wasn’t done.
“Now, you’re trapped with me in a castle, during a snowstorm, and I get to do anything I want with you because for tonight, your body is mine.”
Jesus.
What Ian wanted to say was that his body was his forever. He never wanted a moment where Gryphen didn’t have access to him.
Ian would do anything to be with him.