Page 18 of King’s Promise

“We are going out this Friday, are you joining us?”

Us, as in a small study group of men and women. I’ve clubbed with them before, and I hate to pass up an invite. I’m making up for lost time seeing as how I am getting married; my days of freedom are disappearing as we speak.

“I’ll see if I can make it happen. Text me the details,” I reply.

“Sure, it will be great, there is a new band playing at one of our places.”

The lecture begins and I take notes and, when it’s over, I head to another building for another class.

Alex is the largest man on campus but in his defense, he isn’t intrusive. We arrive home and the house is empty. Hazel has a snack for me and mentions Nikolay is out.

I finish my cucumber sandwich and decide to investigate the other floors without a warden following me.

I head to the top floor, it’s bedrooms and bathrooms, and a billiards room. Interesting. I head to the second floor and find the room I remember briefly from my first day, the one with a desk and bookcase. I enter, and the scent of Nikolay’s cologne hangs in the air, he had to be here this morning.

The smell reminds me of my childhood, and I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s so familiar I could swear it’s imprinted in my brain. I can’t recall its association or meaning to me.

I run my hands over the books in the library. The British classics;Lady Chatterley’s LoverandThe Jungle Book,among others. They are bound in leather. I pickLittle Women, off the shelf and for a minute I’m taken back to grade school remembering how I carried it around as a child. I loved Jo. She was the rebel who wanted to write and struggled for her dreams, like me. I crack the book open and smell the ink on the pristine pages.

“What are you doing in here?”

I’m startled and clutch the book to my chest so I don’t drop it before I turn to find Nikolay in the doorway. My heart skips a beat.

“I love books.”

“Well, this is my office. You may read the books, only do it somewhere else.”

“Fine.”

He takes four long strides and he’s in front of me. I stand my ground. I remember how he wore his towel after swimming and remember the tattoos on his chest. I wonder what they mean. He’s dangerous, and yet, there is another side to him he won’t show me.

“You’re…” His words cut off as his lips descend on mine. They are warm, affectionate. I’m nervous as fuck, this is nothing like any kiss I’ve ever exchanged with any man. He leans over me, his hand above my head on the bookcase, his body pushing on mine as his other hand moves behind my back to keep me steady under the weight of him.

Wetness fills my panties; I can’t deny the attraction we’ve been dancing around and kiss him back. His hand comes down and grabs the back of my head, giving my hair a tug. The force of his movement causes my head to tilt back. He crushes my lips as I feverishly move my lips over his as his tongue thrusts into my mouth. I let him invade it, and the book slips from my hands as I wrap them around his neck. The kisses become increasingly demanding; my desire fueled by his unexpected affection. His lips break away and travel down my neck, where he concentrates on one area, gently sucking before leaving a trail of kisses leading to the top of my blouse.

My instinct is to avoid the new sensations welling inside me. I want to squirm under the explosion of neurons firing. Everywhere he touches releases exquisite bursts of euphoria. I find myself wanting him, but I’m afraid to give into him. He’s used to getting what he wants. I can’t let him in, it will make me weak, like Mum. I need to fight him if I’m to have my independence. Love makes women weak.

His body is pushing on me, his hard cock presses my abdomen.

Without reason, he breaks away.

“Another time, I have work to do.” He turns away, regaining his composure, and says, “I heard you had classes today.”

“Yes.” My voice is unsteady, my lips swollen. “Alex is nice.” I should bring up the clubbing date, but I know he’ll say no. I refuse to ask him for permission.

“You need to get on with the wedding planning.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good.” His dark blue eyes take me in. “Saturday morning,” he announces out of the blue. “Don’t forget.”

Shopping, with men. Ugh.

“Fine. Am I going alone?”

“No, I need to make sure your choices are appropriate. I doubt you’ll know where to go.”

The passive aggressive behavior is wearing on me.

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