Page 52 of Savage Protector

His growled ‘goodnight’ puts an end to that notion. I close my eyes and hope for the best.

When next Icrack my eyelids open, it’s daylight, but still quite early, I think. Much to my disgust, I’ve repeated my nocturnal behaviour and I’m once more nestled in his arms. I groan to myself but remain motionless and try not to breathe too heavily. Perhaps I can?—

“Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?”

Ah, right.

“Fine, thanks. What time is it?”

“Just after seven.” He rolls onto his back and cradles his head on his arm. “Fancy a coffee?”

“Not yet.”

“Me neither.” He rolls back to face me. “You look very, very fuckable. Are you always so gorgeous first thing in the morning?”

I glare at him. “Where do you get off, saying things like that to me?”

He shrugs. “Just telling it like it is, babe.”

Babe?I snort in disgust. “I’m getting up. I’ll get the coffee.”

I throw back the duvet, but he wraps his arm around my waist.

“Wait. Don’t go yet.”

“I need to?—”

My protests are silenced by his lips covering mine. I struggle, admittedly without much in the way of serious intent, which only prompts him to deepen the kiss. His lips part, so do mine. His fingers are in my hair, loosening the messy plait I fashioned last night. His arms are around me; he pulls me closer then rolls onto his back, bringing me with him to sprawl over his body. I find myself taking over the initiative, raking my fingers through his messy, wavy hair and scrambling one silk-clad leg over his abdomen.

He breaks the kiss to nuzzle my neck, my ear. “I love your choice of nightwear, Leila, but do we still need these?” His fingers are plucking the waistband of my pyjama bottoms before he decides to ignore the barrier altogether and slides his hand down the back of them to caress my buttock.

“You shouldn’t… We can’t…”

“I think we can. If you choose to.” More nuzzling, more kissing. “What do you choose,may-ri-jaan?”

“I want…I want…” Something sparks in my head. I wriggle free of his embrace and sit up to glare at him all over again. “I told you what I want. Two years ago. Made a total fool of myself, actually. I bet you so enjoyed that, didn’t you? And now you think I’m going to do it all over again. Is that right? Is it?”

His smirk is so cocksure, I could actually punch him. As far as I can recall, I’ve never raised a hand to anyone, but in this moment, I’m close. I settle for another inelegant snort and tug my pyjama bottoms right again. “I’ll get that coffee,” I announce.

“Fuck the coffee. It’s you I want.”

“Tough. You had your chance, and you turned me down flat. Not again,babe.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Leila, wait.”

His tone is sharp. There’s nothing of the cajoling would-be lover now. I whirl around to regard him and wait.

“Get back into bed,” he instructs me. “We’re not done here.”

He won’t press the issue. Surely, he won’t. Even so, his expression is not that of a man thinking of backing down. I swallow hard and do as he says, reaching for the protective shield of the duvet once more.

I try to look away, but his fingers are on my jaw, gently, firmly turning my face to his. He forces me to meet his gaze and holds me there for several long moments.

“You’re scared,” he observes, matter-of-factly.

“I am not! I just?—”

“Tell your face that.” He gives me a lop-sided smile, “and you can lose that haunted look, too. I’m not about to rape you. But we do need to talk, and you need to listen this time. Really listen and actually understand what I’m saying.”

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