Page 92 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

“And I’m still going to hate fuck you.” He growls.

Yes, please.

I swallow thickly and nod. “Are we done with the list?”

“No, one last thing,” He says, standing and walking to within a couple meters of me, “You let me follow you on Instagram.”

I laugh, startled. That’s the last thing I expected him to ask for. “Why?”

He lifts his shoulder and says nothing, his usual response when he doesn’t feel like giving me a real answer.

“Alright.” I agree, before asking the obvious final question, “When do we end it?”

“New Year’s Day, when the engagement is announced. It’ll be a nice clean break.”

The irony is not lost on me that he’s suggesting ending our intimate relationship right as we announce our intent to spend the rest of our lives together to the world.

But I guess it’s as good a time as any, and relatively soon. The longer I let this enemies with benefits situationship run, the harder I know it’ll be when we end it.

At least now that I have guardrails around what we’re doing and an actual end date, I can prepare myself and my feelings, tempering against any potential disappointment.

I nod, signaling my final alignment.

“Okay.”

As soon as the word leaves my lips, Phoenix is on me, eating the distance between us with two steps before coming to tower above me.

He tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. His gaze is stamped with hunger as his eyes devour my lips. I painted them red for the occasion and they match my hair and dress.

His fingers move from my jaw to curl around my neck possessively. “You look like Jessica Rabbit in this dress.” His gravelly voice coarsens every word.

His other hand cups my leg right above my knee through the high slit in my dress. He slowly starts to move up my thigh. My skin feels like it burns below his touch and I arch into his hand, desperate for more.

“My new favorite fucking fantasy.” He grunts, his mouth finding the crook of my neck and biting into my skin. I cry out and he laves at it, his warm tongue washing away the sting as his mouth keeps moving down my chest towards my breasts.

He reaches behind me to the zipper of my dress and tugs it down in one go. The dress falls in a puddle of fabric at my feet, exposing me before him in a thong and nothing else.

“Wait,” I say, forcing rational thought through the haze of lust. I push against his shoulders but he doesn’t move, an angry growl ripping from his chest at my attempt to get him off of me. “Phoenix.”

“What?” He asks, his voice muffled as he bites, kisses, and marks his way down to my breasts. His mouth closes around my pierced nipple and I buck into him as arousal flames through me.

“Those two men that disappeared in Geneva,” I say, articulating my thoughts with some difficulty, “Did you have anything to do with that?”

He hums but otherwise doesn’t say anything else, too busy licking a path down my stomach to my panties. He grips them between his teeth like an animal and rips them off.

I take his silence as a confession.

“Why?” I ask.

He still hasn’t looked at me, his gaze fixed on my now bare pussy with a look of hunger so intimidating and dominating, it’s at odds with the fact that he’s on his knees for me.

I know I should be horrified, but I’m more perplexed and curious.

What could have possibly possessed him to take such a risk?

His eyes finally flick up to me, dark and cold and so completely focused on me that they take my breath away.

“They saw something they shouldn’t have.” He says simply, before diving between my legs.

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