got to her feet. “I’m going to spend some time with my son first.” She breezed out of the room. Arthur had tensed as she said that, and I turned and studied him. There was no expression on his face. Only the slight tension in his body told me he’d had any kind of reaction to his grandma visiting his father.
“I’m going to bed,” Freddie said, then stopped in front of me. “Eva’s bark’s worse than her bite,” he said. “She’s just protective of Golden Boy here.”
“Fuck off,” Arthur said, but I caught the amusement in his gruff tone. Arthur’s arm around my waist tightened. “Night.” Freddie walked out of the room, leaving only us and Vinnie.
“Pearl wants to know if you want another drink. Said she misses her brother,” Vinnie said, and I heard Arthur’s breath hitch at the mention of his sister. I frowned and slipped my hand down over his on my waist. I squeezed his hand. That seemed to ignite something in Arthur, and he stood, lifting me off the chair and placing my feet on the floor.
“We’re going to bed,” he said.
“Night night,” Vinnie said, his disturbing smile coming our way. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”
Arthur pulled me toward his bedroom. The minute the door was shut, he pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the nearby chair. The strange mood that he had been in for days and days still stuck to him like the smoke from his cigarettes.
Then he turned on me, backing me against the wall. He wanted to fuck me. Fuck me the same way he always had. But I wanted something else. As he stepped toward me, I ducked away from him and walked into the en suite. I closed the door and changed into my purple silk nightgown. I could hear Arthur pacing the bedroom outside.
When I opened the bathroom door, Arthur was sitting on the edge of the bed. Shirt off, only his trousers on, the fly already undone, that defined V leading the way underneath. “Get the fuck here, princess,” he said. I saw he was hard underneath his trousers. His face was flushed and his eyes were piercing as they fixed on me.
He drank me in as I approached him. I stopped beside the bed and went to run my hands through his hair. He caught my wrist in his hand and pushed it straight down to his cock. “I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he said, and I caught the censure in his voice.
I stroked over his trousers, along his length underneath. Arthur growled under his breath. Then I stopped and pulled back my hand. There were questions in his gaze. “You’ve been acting strangely,” I said and, this time, did rake my fingers through his hair. Arthur stilled beneath me. His hands ran up the side of my legs, up to my thighs, skimming over the purple silk to rest on my waist. I felt my nipples harden. “Tell me,” I said. His grip tightened in response. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to fuck you, that’s what’s fucking wrong.” He yanked me closer. He wrapped his lips around my right nipple through my nightdress, and my eyes rolled back in my head at the feel. Pleasure fractured within me, sending warm currents of light through my body. Arthur moved his head to my other nipple, and I clenched my thighs together, my hands moving from his hair and down to his neck to feel his pulse. It was racing.
He broke away from my breast and pulled down the straps of my nightdress. The silk slipped from my body and pooled on the floor. He pulled me closer again by my waist—aggressively, dominantly. I adored him this way. But this time … this time …
“I want you to make love to me,” I whispered. Arthur stilled. He didn’t look up at me, though I knew he could feel my stare. With my hands on his cheeks, I guided his face to mine. His jaw was tight, eyes void of any emotion.
“I fuck,” he said, his hand leaving my waist and dropping between my legs. He pressed his finger against my clit. I stopped his movements with a grip on his wrist, and he told me, “I fuck and you scream, and that’s how it is.”
“And you fuck well,” I placated, pulling away his hand from me. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t make love to me too.” I saw a million thoughts run through his