Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,35
he did other things to me? Whose brilliant idea was it that I should get drunk? Oh yeah—mine. Idiot.
“You didn’t,” I say, more to myself than to him, but I don’t cut off eye contact. I want him to look me right in the eye when he tells me.
“I didn’t because you were drunk.” He grabs the hem of the sheet before I can properly be relieved, and yanks it off my body. “But you’re not now.”
“Kyle!” I mean to scold him, but his name comes out as a surprised squeal instead.
“What? I was promised that I’d get to punish you today.”
I hold the sheet to my chest as he tries to remove it again. Our warring gazes meet over the cloth. “I made no such promise.”
“Drunk Rai did, and I take her word for granted.”
“You’re lying. I would never ever make such a promise.” Right?
“Your exact words were…” His voice lowers, mimicking mine. “Are you going to punish me, Kyle? Now?”
“Shut up. I didn’t say that.” I couldn’t have. But on the other hand, considering all the things I keep bottled inside, I could have let go of my inhibitions after the shitload of Jack Daniels. Note to self: never drink again, especially when with Kyle.
He runs the tip of his fingers over my cheek. “Why are you blushing then? Are you playing the amnesia game to get out of wanting me last night? You rubbed your pussy all over my dick, urging me to ‘punish’ you, and when I didn’t, you were so disappointed you went to sleep with a pout.”
I can actually feel the flames igniting all over my face at his crude words, at the suggestion of what could’ve happened. A flashback of that exact moment hits me straight in the head.
Are you going to punish me, Kyle? Now?
My voice…that was me.
My headache is forgotten as my eyes widen. Kyle’s right—I nearly begged the bastard for it.
Drunk me and sober me are not friends anymore.
My lips part, but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say anyway? That I didn’t mean those words? He would never believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either right now.
Lost for words, I pull the sheet with me and stumble out of bed. I trip on my dirty dress that’s lying on the floor, but I catch myself at the last second and fly in the direction of the only other door available in the room. Thankfully, it is a bathroom.
I lock it from the inside and press my back against the door, screwing my eyes shut and breathing harshly as if I just ended a workout.
You will not get drunk again, Rai. Never again.
A knock sounds on the door, startling me from my thoughts.
“Open up.”
“Go away.”
“You don’t get to lock yourself away from me. It’s part of the rules you have to follow now that you’re my wife.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. It’s part of the rules you have to follow now that you’re my husband.”
I expect him to shoot something back in reply since he doesn’t like to let me have the last word, but nothing comes. Hmph. He learned his place.
The bathroom isn’t as small as I thought it would be from the size of the room. It’s simple with gray tiles, a black sink, a toilet, and a shower stall large enough to fit three people.
Someone likes black. Like me.
Kyle never told me if this place is rented or if he owns it. Since he disappeared for the past seven years, I’m betting on the first option.
I let the sheet slide to the floor then unclasp my bra and slide my panties down my legs so they join the pile.
Something in the mirror catches my attention, and it’s not only my tangled loose hair that’s framing my face, making it look younger, prettier, in a docile way like Reina’s. It’s the violet mark on the hollow of my neck that’s angry against my fair skin, almost like someone tried to rip a piece of flesh out.
Did…did the bastard leave a hickey on me?
I reach my fingers to it, touching gently as if expecting it to disappear if I press any harder. While it doesn’t hurt, the mark is visible evidence of last night, of when he touched me and I…touched him.
I did touch him. There was a moment where I didn’t want to stop.
Forcing my mind to shut that thought down, I break eye contact with the hickey and head to