Page 17 of The Darkest King

He turns and walks to the bar, tossing his jacket on the sofa.

“I’ll take that.” I walk into the room and grab the jacket.

It smells like bourbon, and...Connor. Earth and leather. Like a predator in the wild.

While Connor pours a drink, I stand there hugging the black Armani jacket. He turns and walks to me, stalking like a jaguar, then hands me one of the filled crystal cut glasses.

“Put it down, Mia,” he orders, and my body almost obeys.

“I should be getting back,” I say weakly.

Connor tosses back the gold liquid and puts both glasses down on the table beside us. Then he undoes his bow tie and begins to undo his shirt.

Oh God.

I may have seen him shirtless already tonight, but in the dim mood lights of his spacious penthouse, the view of Manhattan in the background, a fire flickering along the wall nearby, I suddenly feel completely out of my depth.

I mean, how strong does a girl have to be to say no to this man?

Strong.

Really damn strong.

Connor drops his shirt and tie onto the sofa, taking his jacket from me and tossing it on top of them.

Fuck.

My core throbs harder, and I think Sienna might be right about ovaries exploding around this man.

He takes a step closer.

“Say no and you can walk out the door right now,” Connor says, and I know I should, but instead I stay right there, staring at his beautiful face. “If you are still here in thirty seconds, I’m going to touch you. I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to own your orgasms and your screams.”

Oh, shit.

My mouth goes dry.

“Do you understand?”

I nod, and my body begins to tremble.

“Twenty seconds.”

Leave.

Go.

Walk away.

But I’m still standing here, and all the reasons why I shouldn’t have vanished into thin air. My only focus is his luscious brown eyes and the way they’re already fucking me.

Mentally.

Like he owns me.

“Ten seconds,” his voice a soft growl.

I open my mouth.

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