Page 70 of A King So Savage

Remembering how easily he destroyed her defenses was disturbing on so many levels. How could she want him like that? Why had she begged him when she’d sworn so many times she would never plead for mercy?

Taking a deep breath, Ava pushed back the silk comforter and tugged at her nightgown until it covered the tops of her thighs. The matching robe lay in a discarded heap on the edge of the bed, and she snatched it up. Once it settled over her shoulders, she swung her legs to the edge of the bed and sat up. Her body sagged with the familiar exhaustion she usually experienced after an episode of night terrors.

Then she simply listened.

Within the quiet stillness came the faint rush of running water. In the gloomy darkness, Ava located the door leading to what must be the bathroom. A thin sliver of light illuminated through a crack at the bottom of it.

Kingston was in there. Probably taking a shower. Maybe even scraping away the shadow of his beard with that custom-made straight razor he’d recently used on her own body.

Ava tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. She worried it while wondering what she should do. Laying down and going back to sleep was out of the question. Escape was a possibility. In fact, she could return to her own room before Kingston emerged from that bathroom. She wouldn’t have to face him.

Coward.

Her lips twisted in acknowledgment. She was certainly that. A weak coward subject to the rule of one man.

But she didn’t have to be. She could stand straighter. Stand up for herself.

“Remember what you told him,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be his puppet. You don’t have to be his good girl. You don’t have to listen when he tells you what to do. But to survive, you will.”

She hopped out of bed, tying the sash of the robe tighter around her waist with sharp, business-like movements. Stomping to the bedroom door, her hand was actually on the knob when a strange groan came from the bathroom. It reverberated beneath the running water. Ava stopped in her tracks, ears pricking up.

A low grunt this time. A muttered curse.

Her name… hissed as if the person who uttered it was in excruciating pain.

Hesitating, Ava contemplated following through with her plan. She should escape Kingston’s lair before he realized her actions and stopped her. But when the noise came again, she leaned her forehead against the door and took a deep breath.

What if he was hurt? Maybe he’d fallen and required medical attention. Was she the type of person who could turn her back on an injured person?

“Damnit,” she whispered.

Padding silently to the bathroom door, Ava pressed her ear against the thick wood. She could not bring herself to just burst into that room. Something told her to move a bit more stealthily than the situation perhaps called for, but that was her nature. To think and react methodically. Consider options and solutions.

She almost started to chew a fingernail in her usual method of dealing with stress but stopped herself. Kingston didn’t like it when she bit her nails. He wanted her to stop, and she wanted that, too. There was a sense of accomplishment when she resisted the urge by taking a deep breath.

Ava turned the doorknob carefully, slowly. Taking another inhaled breath of courage, she leaned her head around the door’s edge and peeked into the bathroom while standing just outside the door.

The room was constructed entirely of white, creamy marble. The walls and floor glistened with the expensive material. Along one wall, a freestanding tub sat framed by a huge arched window, and an enormous antique chandelier dripping with crystals was suspended above it. The window’s glass was dark, but Ava could see the forest beyond it. There was a switch on the wall enabling one to operate the glass’s opacity.

Tearing her gaze from that, her attention went to the shower area. It was an enormous space built of marble and glass. Through the swirling steam, Ava saw double rain shower heads, multiple jets, and matching handheld shower wands on opposite sides. The shower took up a huge portion of the bathroom, and its luxuriousness was magnificent.

But it was what Ava saw inside the shower that was responsible for the immediate flames of fire licking through her body. She stared in rapt fascination at the man standing beneath the water’s onslaught.

Kingston leaned forward with one hand braced against the marble wall. Water sluiced down his form. Because the other three walls of the shower were clear glass, Ava viewed him in all his heart-pounding, chiseled glory. Every muscle, every slab of sinewy flesh, every contour was on full display. As she stared in dazed appreciation, she slowly realized that while Kingston steadied himself with that one hand, the other was between his own legs. And he was slowly stroking a massive erection.

Ava could not look away. She gripped the edge of the door until her fingernails ached, and within the pit of her belly, a shameful craving erupted. Kingston Vaughn Winter was beautiful. A man hewn from granite and muscle. And she knew how his cock felt when it pressed against her trembling body. Knew what his flesh tasted like because he’d pushed himself into her mouth and forced her to savor him once before.

No. She could not look away as her enemy pleasured himself, all the while muttering her name as though it were a curse.

For a heartbeat of absolute insanity, Ava considered slipping out of her nightgown and into the shower with him. Her hands flexed in a convulsive grip on the door, her throat dry as she watched in avid curiosity. Kingston’s large hands stroked with rough urgency. His cock expanded within the circle created by his capable palms, and still, to Ava’s utter damnation, she could not tear her eyes away from the magnificent spectacle before her.

“Ava.”

The low growling of her name had her gaze flying to clash with his. A gasp pushed past her lips as Kingston pinned her with a glare. Even through the steam, Ava could see his eyes. Dark, stormy blue blazing with furious lust. Burning through her. Incinerating her embarrassment and quickly disintegrating the last shreds of any modesty she still possessed.

She returned his stare. Embarrassed. Stubborn. Curious.

And worst of all, aroused.

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