Page 94 of Dangerous King
"I plan to keep doing that," he murmurs. "Every day. Forever."
My heart skips. Trips. Stumbles.
I don't know what to say to that. I'm too afraid to get my hopes up, to read too much into his words, so I lean back against him and close my eyes and just be. We stand like that for a while, swaying slightly in the quiet morning light, until reality begins to press around the edges again. I sigh, reluctantly stepping away.
"I should get dressed."
His eyes drop to my towel. "You should stay like that all day."
I shoot him a look over my shoulder. "We both know you wouldn't get anything done."
He grins. "I'm fine with that."
I reach for my dress from last night and pull it over my head, leaving the bra off. I go to look for my panties… another flush rushes over my face when I remember they're tucked away in his pants pocket. My body is sore in all the best ways, and thoughI move slower than usual, it's a soreness that makes me smile when no one's looking because I earned it. Every bruised nerve and trembling muscle.
I sit down to put on my shoes, but Enrico is instantly by my side. "Allow me."
Incredibly gentle and nimble, he slips first one, then the other shoe on, closing the tiny clasps. "I have no idea how you can walk in those things," he grumbles. "They look sexy as fuck, but they have to be uncomfortable as hell."
"You get used to it," I reply, and before I can stop myself, "probably like sex."
Enrico freezes mid-movement.
Then slowly—so slowly—he lifts his head and stares at me like I just threw a lit match into a pile of dynamite.
A beat of stunned silence gets violently disrupted by his loud laughter. It's not a smug chuckle or his usual low rumble, but a full, astonished, chest-shaking laugh that makes his whole body rock back on his heels.
"Madonna Santa," he says, swiping a hand down his face. "You're going to be the death of me."
He shakes his head, grinning widely now, his eyes gleaming with something wild and wicked. "You say that tome—after last night? After you sobbed my name like a hymn and passed out on my chest? And you're comparing that to breaking in shoes?"
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the delicate scrap of lace that is—yep—my panties. He twirls them around one finger like a trophy. "Sweetheart, if that's youbreaking in,I'm terrified andfucking thrilled at the thought of seeing what you'll be like fully broken."
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my knee, voice dropping into something darker, rougher. "And just so we're clear, sex with me? You'renevergoing to get used to it. You're just going to crave it more."
My cheeks are on fire. My thighs press together involuntarily.
He winks, tucks my panties right back into his pocket like he has no intention of returning them, and offers me his hand. "Come on, Piccolina. Let's see how well you walk in those heels… now that I've ruined you."
With a low giggle, I take his hand and let him lead me out of the hotel room, down the corridor, and into the elevator. Every step makes my body hum with memory, and I notice him adjust his stride as he notices the way I move just a little slower, a little tighter. His fingers curl more firmly around mine, pride practically radiating from him.
We don't talk much on the way down. There's a new quiet between us that's neither awkward nor strained. Full. Like our bodies have already said everything that needs to be said.
Outside, the Hummer waits. A sleek matte-black tank of a car, reflecting the morning light like a predator just waking from sleep. Enrico opens the passenger door for me with that same mix of chivalry and possessiveness he always carries, like I'm both royalty and his.
I climb in with a careful breath, easing into the buttery leather. Once he gets in his side, he doesn't start the engine right away. Just sits behind the wheel and watches me for a moment.
"Buckle up," he murmurs finally, one corner of his mouth tugging up. "I might take the long way home."
But less than ten minutes into the drive, his phone buzzes. His hand leaves mine to tap a button on the wheel. "Yes."
There's a long pause. I can't hear the other voice, but I watch the shift in Enrico's face going from calm to sharp, and I notice the tightening around his mouth.
"Mmm." His only response. Then, after a beat, "Okay. I'll be there." Another pause. "Keep him warm."
The call ends, and he exhales once through his nose. I glance at him, but he doesn't offer more, just reaches across to squeeze my hand. The rest of the ride is quiet.
"I'm sorry, Cat, I wanted to talk to you, maybe run you a warm bath, but something's come up. I'll need to drop you off and run." His voice is filled with regret.
