Page 21 of Wicked Knight

“Don’t be mad at me.” She peeked at me over her wet eyelashes.

“What makes you think I’m angry?”

“Your face. You always have that scowl between your brows.” She reached for my temple and drew a circle over my frown lines. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“You ruined my life.” I put down the handheld showerhead and turned off the water.

“I know.”

I could stand here and enumerate all the lies Donata had told about me and how every one of those changed my life forever. But she was drunk. And there was a one-hundred-percent chance she would not remember any part of our conversation in the morning. What was the point of revenge if she wasn’t even suffering or aware?

“How about we get you to bed?” I rose and pulled her to her feet. She had removed her shoes and stockings but not her dress. “Turn around. I’ll help you with the zipper.”

She did as I asked without complaint. Suddenly, there was too much steam in the air and very little oxygen to breathe. I undid the top hook, then pulled down on the slide. As the fabric gave way, my gaze zeroed in on her smooth skin. Look, I never said I was a saint. Taking my eyes off Donata’s nude body was an impossible task.

“I couldn’t breathe in this thing anymore.” She let the dress fall to her feet then quickly removed her bra and panties.

Jesus Christ. “Don’t move. Let me get your bathrobe.”

Of course she didn’t listen to me. When she turned around, she lost her balance and fell on top of me—all wet and slippery, and oh so naked.

“You’re killing me,” I said through gritted teeth.

I took in a deep breath to calm down and to remind my hard cock that sex with Donata was off the table—that could never happen between us. Once we were married, my sole purpose would be to make her life hell. Once we were married, she would learn one final lesson, that I wasn’t the man she thought I was. The guy she was obsessed with didn’t exist. He was nothing more than the fantasy of a spoiled brat.

I bent down and scooped her into my arms. If she had fought me on it, we would’ve both landed face first on the tile. Making sure I only stepped on the towels that didn’t look too wet, I carried her back to the bedroom, then grabbed her terry bathrobe off the door hook.

“Here. Put this on.” I handed it to her.

I couldn’t tell if she was moving in slow motion or if it was me who couldn’t stop ogling her perfect tits. My hands itched to reach out and squeeze them into my mouth. Jesus, what the hell was I thinking? I shifted my gaze upward, hoping she wouldn’t notice my raging hard-on.

After what felt like hours, Donata pulled on my shirt. “There. All the offensive parts are covered. I never pegged you for a prude. Oh no, wait. I get it.” She pointed a perfectly-manicured finger at me. “You only like it when you’re in control. Am I right?”

“Go to bed,” I said in a gruff voice. Donata was truly testing my limits. “I’ll get the coffee. It’s probably cold by now.”

“Your clothes got wet too. You should take them off.” She reached for the top button on my dress shirt.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I gripped both her wrists. “I have to go.”

“No, don’t go. Please. Not yet.” She truly sounded lonely and sad when she begged.

“Then get under the covers.”

With a resigned look in her eyes, she padded to the mattress. I gave her the ibuprofen and coffee, and she took them both without another word or any further attempts at undressing me. Jesus, I didn’t think I could survive five minutes with a naked Donata. As it were, I was having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.

I sat on the edge of the mattress next to her and arranged her pillows and blankets. “Try to sleep on your side if you can. You know, in case, you have another episode.” I pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ah. Don’t remind me. I can’t believe you saw me like that.”

“You put yourself in danger tonight.” I caved and touched her cheek. “I should bend you over my knee and give you a good spanking. Maybe only then, you’ll remember to drink in moderation.”

“So judgy.” She shook her head, then wrapped her fingers around mine. “Stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t.”

“Because you hate me?”

“Because it wouldn’t be right. You’re my student, Ms. Salvatore, remember?”

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