Page 58 of Kneel with the King
My boots sink into the snow with every step as I quickly walk to the main lodge, and my jaw tightens against the cold air.
Fuck, the temperature’s dropped.
My legs sting under the material of my jeans, and I realize a few steps before the door that it’s because I have slight rug burn on my knees.
Wonderful.
Before I can stop it, I think about what happened at cabin from earlier—his voice, and that blinding moment of pleasure?—
Fuck.
I can’t think about it. Pulling the door of the main building open, I relish the warm air of the vestibule. If I start thinking about the way he tasted, about the salty, bitter taste of his cum, the look on his face as he came, the way his hand gently brushed the back of my head when we were finished, like Ibelongedto him?—
I quickly pull my coat off and step through another door to the lobby.
Think of literally anything else, Asher.
I wave to a few of the familiar faces as I make my way to the restaurant. Once there, the hostess guides me to a table near the back window overlooking a snow-covered field. Right now, though, it just looks like a dark gray abyss.
Walter’s unmistakable laugh echoes through the room, and when the table comes fully into view, I realize he’s laughing at something King said.
My teeth nearly break from clenching my jaw so hard.
Wine glints in his hand as the other one comes to King’s shoulder, clapping it in a friendly way.
My eyes spot Jacques with an arm around the back of Walter’s chair, and he, too, looks mesmerized by something King is saying.
The man of the hour is wearing a black cashmere sweater, the sleeves pushed up just enough to show off his arm tattoos, paired with dark gray jeans. His hair is mussed, as if he’s been running a hand through it all day like me.
When did he change?
His eyes flick up lazily, finding me instantly.
I stop moving as blood rushes in my ears. His usual smirk is gone, there’s no cocky twist of his lips or mischievous expression. Instead, he almost looks… calm.
Unruffled, yet again, despite having him moaning against a cabin wall just two hours ago. Despite choking on his cock and coming in my fucking pants without a single touch.
I expected a snarky smile after what we did, but as I walk closer, he looks away and continues talking with Walter and Jacques.
He doesn’t look shaken at all.
Every step closer feels heavy. My pride is bleeding out everywhere, and I can’t think straight.
“Ah, Mr. Harrison,” Walter says, standing to greet me. “We were starting to think you’d bailed on us.”
I scrunch my brows and look down at my wrist, only to remember I don’t have my watch anymore. I don’t have any outside connections to the real world anymore.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Did I forget to tell you we moved the reservation to six-thirty?” King asks, standing to take my jacket in a show of faux chivalry.
“Yeah, you must’ve,” I say, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to give both Walter and Jacques a polite smile.
“Asher was probably still recovering from our climb earlier,” King finishes for me, his voice honey-sweet and just worried enough to appease the couple at the table.
I shoot him a look sharp enough to draw blood, and luckily Walter and Jacques can’t see my expression fully. “I’m perfectly fine.”
King’s fingers brush mine as he takes my jacket. “Of course you are. But you can’t be too careful, especially now that you’ve started that new heart medication for your high blood pressure.”
I’m going to kill him.
