Page 34 of Forbidden Pawn

I’m used to having Enzo and a housekeeper around, so I never had to worry about cleaning up. Besides, I hardly ever use the kitchen to begin with. I don’t think I’ve ever cooked a proper meal in here, not like Grace did last night.

I grit my teeth, trying to swallow my frustration about the mess.She’s your prisoner; make her do the cleaning.The thought flashes through my mind, but I shove it aside, even though a part of me would love to see her reaction if I wereto make that demand. The way her eyes would grow wide with indignation, a cute little huff fleeing her pretty lips, before she would throw a bratty response to me.

My lips curve into a smile at the thought of it. Maybe I should tell her to clean, just for the fun of it.

Instead, I grab a trash bag, the crinkling sound echoing in the stillness. I toss in the leftovers with more force than necessary, scrubbing the plates angrily, trying to focus on anything but the fact that I’m standing here, cleaning up after a night that’s left me feeling more confused than ever. I shouldn’t let my guard down with her. But that’s exactly what I did, letting the heat of the moment cloud my judgment.

I was careless, all because I want her so much—no, wanted her. I correct myself, trying to convince my mind this was a onetime thing. Just a good fuck, nothing more. I grit my teeth, knowing I’m lying to myself. I’m not done with her as much as I would love to be.And I don’t regret what happened last night. It was the best sex I’ve ever had, with the most mesmerizing girl I’ve ever met—and the most forbidden.

The sound of footsteps breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to find her standing in the hallway, her hair ruffled and wearing nothing but my shirt. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her in my clothes, a claim of ownership draped around her delicate shoulders.

“I can help,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice, when she notices the way I’m looking at her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find my clothes.”

A blush colors her cheeks, and I almost drop the trash bag in my hand. The sudden urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her good morning hits me like a freight train. She looks so vulnerable, so adorably cute in my shirt, as if she really was mine to keep. For fucking ever. A warm sensation spreads through mybody at the thought, reaching all the way to the tingling tips of my fingers.

You are such a fool, I think, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“You can clean the plates from the table,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady, pushing down the rush of emotions threatening to surface.

She nods, a smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, sir.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.

Her smile widens, and there’s a spark of mischief in her eyes. “You seemed to like it when I called you that last night.”

I bite my lip, a rush of heat flooding my cheeks, while my cock twitches at the memory. This is fucking impossible. If I don’t watch it, she’ll be spread out on the kitchen table before me in no time. I fucking hate how much I want that to happen.

I watch her as she moves to the table, unable to remove my eyes from her. And when she bends over to reach for the plates, the shirt slides up, revealing her perky—and completely naked—ass.

“Why the fuck are you not wearing any underwear?” I produce, sounding as breathless as I’m feeling. Is she trying to kill me?

“Like I said, I couldn’t find my clothes,” she says, a playful frown gracing her face. She turns around, casting me an innocent look, before she scans the living room.

“See,” she says, pointing toward the seating area, where her clothes from last night are still scattered on the floor in a messy pile. “It’s still all down here.”

“You have other clothes,” I argue.

“In my bedroom,” she says, now looking at me, her head tilted to the side. “But that’s not where I slept last night.”

“Well, you should have,” I maintain. “I don’t know how you ended up in my bed.”

Hurt appears on her pretty face, and I instantly regret what I said.

“Neither do I,” she admits, her voice low. “But the part before that…”

She pauses, her expression changing, as she looks down for a second before she looks back up at me with a playful glint in her eyes. “Last night was fun, wasn’t it?”

The memory of her mouth wrapped around me, her body pressed against mine, floods back, and I can feel my body responding instinctively. I get hard again, desire pooling low in my belly, reminding me of the danger of this whole situation.

It’s reckless. It’s stupid. Yet here I am, caught up in the moment, unable to tear my gaze away from her as she lifts her arms to throw her unruly hair back over her shoulders, and my gaze drops to those perfect, soft lips and the promise of her wet heat.

One more time will change nothing. Right?

She smiles at me as she comes closer, carrying our plates into the kitchen, while swaying her hips seductively, robbing the air out of my lungs.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I need to regain control. But the way she moves, the way she smiles—she’s making it impossible.

I force myself to turn away and focus on the task at hand, but the image of her keeps pulling me back, deeper into the dangerous chaos she caused. I can sense her behind me, her scent adding to the lure of her appearance.

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