Page 110 of Kneel with the King
“You think one HR email and a Pride panel make up for walking away? Twice, I might add. I don’t think I’ll survive a third time, Asher,” he adds, voice going soft.Vulnerable.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Nothing I can say or do will make up for walking away. But this is a start. And I’m hoping you’ll let me keep proving it to you.”
He doesn’t move for a long moment, just studies me like he’s trying to decide if I’m real. Then his eyes drop to my wrist.
“You brought the collar,” he says quietly, like it’s a secret between us. He reaches out, fingers brushing over the leather wrapped twice around my wrist slowly, and my breath catches.
“Yeah,” I manage.
The next thing I know, he’s out from behind his desk and right in front of me, closing the distance like it was never there. One big hand fists the front of my suit jacket, pushing me, and then my back hits the door with a solid thud. The heat of his body, the scent of his cologne—sweet, spicy, cinnamon—makes my head swim.
“You don’t get to run again,” he says, voice low and dangerous.
“I’m not,” I breathe, because it’s the truth this time. “I won’t?—”
He cuts me off and kisses me hard, all teeth and heat and weeks of frustration. I melt into it before I can think better of it, my hands gripping the fabric at his hips, my chest pressing flush to his. It’s messy and desperate, and I can feel every second we spent apart burning up between us.
He crowds closer, his thigh pressing between mine until I’m grinding down without meaning to. The friction makes me groan into his mouth, my head tipping back against the door. His hand catches my jaw, tilting me up so he can take more, like he’s making up for lost time.
“You miss this?” he murmurs, lips brushing mine.
“Yes,” I gasp, the word practically pulled out of me without permission.
His mouth curves in that smug, infuriating way, but before I can glare at him, he’s pressing me harder against the door. I brace myself on the polished wood with one hand, my heart hammering as he steps into me completely. The heat of himright hereis dizzying. One hand is digging into my hip, and theother is sliding down my arm until his fingers curl around the collar.
“I like it here,” he murmurs, giving it the lightest tug. “It’s discreet. But Ilovehow it looks around your neck, sweetheart.”
The jolt that shoots through me is immediate and embarrassing. “King?—”
“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no real bite to it. Just raw need, like I’m not the only one who’s been restless for the past two weeks.
He tugs the collar lightly against my wrist again, then lets it go, his hand drifting down to my waist. Instead of pushing further, he steps back just enough to look at me.
“You could’ve shown up here, played nice for Walter, and gone back to pretending this never happened,” he says. “Instead, you’re standing in my office wearing this.” His gaze drops to my wrist again. “That means something.”
I swallow hard. “I told you… I’m trying. I don’t know what this looks like long-term. I’m still figuring that out. But I know I want?—”
He takes my hand, thumb brushing against the leather. My heart stutters in my chest as his fingers curl around the leather at my wrist, the smallest tug sending a shiver up my spine.
“I thought…” My throat feels tight, but I force the words out. “I thought if I left, I could convince myself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just sex.”
He tilts his head. “And?”
“And it was a lie,” I admit, my voice low. It’s not much, but it’s the truest thing I’ve said in weeks.
I expect him to gloat, to smirk, to throw it back in my face, but instead, he steps closer—close enough that I can feel his breath against my jaw.
“You think you’re the only one who’s scared shitless here?” he says, his voice almost rough. “You think I make a habitof letting people in? Letting them see me first thing in the morning? Telling them about my childhood?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Exactly.” His eyes are sharp, but they’re not cold. “But I did with you. I let you in, Harrison. And I was furious that you walked out, but I’m more furious that I still want you here anyway.”
The words land like a punch, because I feel the exact same way. “You say that like you didn’t push me, too,” I counter. “Like you weren’t holding things back and hiding the truth just to see how far you could push me. I mean, you said it yourself. This all started as revenge.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it. “Maybe it started that way. But it very quickly turned into something else. Something I’ve only just come to terms with, despite obsessing over you for ten years.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “Maybe we both underestimated this whole thing.”
