Page 63 of Peasants and Kings
“What if,” I began, “after a few weeks, you want me gone, or I want to leave. What happens then?”
“I won’t keep you prisoner, if that’s your concern. If it’s a monetary issue, you don’t need to worry about that either. You’ll get one hundred thousand dollars up front just for accepting.”
My brow furrowed.
“Take the contract, Eden.”
“Don’t rush me,” I snapped.
“I want this finalized. One million dollars. Six months. Exclusive. In Shetland with me. I will not be with another. And I willnotshare you.”
The contract was too good to be true.
There was a catch.
There had to be.
But I was too inexperienced to look for hidden meanings or play the game Hadrian was a master at.
It didn’t matter. I knew what my answer was going to be the moment I realized it was Hadrian who’d offered the contract.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because once you say yes, you’re mine. The contract begins immediately.”
I nodded because I was unable to speak. His intense gaze captured mine, clipping my wings.
He gently grasped my elbow and escorted me inside the restaurant. When we were in the private back room, Hadrian released me. He looked at me for a long moment and then with one confident move of his massive arm, he swept the dishes, the glasses of wine, the bottle itself to the floor. Glass shattered, wine spilled, bread and olive oil went everywhere, and I didn’t care.
“Lay on the table,” he demanded. “Spread your legs.”
His blue-gray eyes were trained on me as he waited for me to do his bidding.
Like a puppet, my limbs moved. I crawled onto the table and flipped over, flat on my back, and opened my legs.
Hadrian walked toward me but didn’t touch me. Instead, he stared down at me, an inscrutable expression on his angular face.
My heart began to drum with excitement and nerves. I had no idea what to expect, and the anticipation made me wet between my thighs.
He reached out to caress one of my ankles. His touch was tender, light, and then his fingers were gliding up the inside of my legs, dipping into the hollow behind my knees.
It tickled, and I let out a laugh.
His hands didn’t stop, but continued higher, pushing up my dress so that it gathered around my waist.
I was wearing a scrap of lace that barely passed as underwear. He touched a finger to it and made a noise of approval. And then he was on his knees, pushing aside the lace, his tongue at the heat of me.
I couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from my lips, not caring that the kitchen staff was only a few feet away.
Hadrian gripped my hips to keep me pinned to the table as he continued to devour me. Voracious, he feasted like a warrior at a banquet.
He pleasured fast and ruthless, leaving me no choice but to come against his mouth.
And when he lifted his head, he swiped his tongue across his lips.
“I will ruin you, Eden,” he murmured.
I was sure it was already too late for that.
