Reign of a King (Kingdom Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,45

told you not to say his name.”

“There, clear evidence that your rebirth never took off. If you’re a mess after a meeting with his solicitor, how do you intend on facing him when he resurfaces? Because he will resurface, Aurora. If it’s not with parole, then it’ll be with something else. People like Maxim don’t like to be pushed to the shadows. He’ll steal the limelight and he’ll come after you. So instead of running away from the ghost of his name, get your shit together. Flight mode never works, so you might want to start trying the fight mode.”

My lips part as the weight of his words strikes a deep, dark corner in my chest. It’s almost like he was with me during the years I looked over my shoulder, expecting the ghost of my past to catch up to me.

In fact, I still do. It’s a curse without a solution.

Some of my nightmares are about vacant eyes, but most of them are about me pedalling down that road and I always, always get pulled back into the forest’s clutches by a dark hand.

“Now, are you going to eat or would you rather I make you?”

I snatch the bowl from between his fingers and don’t bother with a spoon. I drink it all in one go as if I’m chugging down alcohol.

Once I’m finished, I slam the empty bowl on the bedside table and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “There. Done, your majesty. Leave me alone.”

“What did I say about that mouth, Aurora?”

“What are you going to do about it? Fuck me? Oh, wait. You only like to spank and finger me.”

His expression shifts from disapproval to what seems like…amusement? “Does that bother you so much?”

My cheeks heat. “It does not.”

“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t have mentioned it in an angry fit.”

“You flatter yourself.”

“Is that so?”

“I absolutely couldn’t give two fucks about that.”

“Fascinating.” He stands up and I expect him to leave, but he unbuttons his shirt, slowly and with utter confidence.

“W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He shrugs off his shirt and the urge to hide under the covers hits me without a warning.

Since I’ve never seen Jonathan naked, I don’t know what to expect, but the firm chest with lean muscles is certainly not it. Who knew the prim and proper suits covered this view? But then again, Jonathan has always had rugged, brutal characteristics. Why would his nudity be any different?

He’s so fit and well-built for his age. His skin is sun-kissed and honed to perfection. Almost as if God took extra care when he was proportioning him.

His fingers undo his belt and while I should look away, I don’t. I’m glued to the unapologetic masculine beauty that is Jonathan King.

He slides his trousers down firm thighs, leaving him in black boxer briefs, and takes his time setting his clothes on the chair. It’s almost like he’s teasing me on purpose.

My spine snaps upright, and my toes curl underneath the sheet in anticipation of what’s coming next. By the time he removes his boxer briefs, I’m ready to hide for real, for a different reason from earlier.

Holy. Shit.

His cock isn’t only hard and thick, but it’s also massive. No kidding, I’ve seen my fair share, but Jonathan wins the crown. Literally.

Oh God, does he expect to fit that thing in me or something? Even though being aroused is no longer a foreign concept to me, I don’t think I could ever take him inside me.

Not in this lifetime, at least.

“Do you like what you see?”

I shake my head frantically, and I mean it. I might be in awe at his size, but I want to continue being in this phase while staying far apart.

Then why the hell are my thighs clenching?

Jonathan smiles, and the motion reaches his dark, stormy eyes, lightening them a bit.

Woah. I didn’t know he could smile, let alone do it so lethally.

That smile could kill. It’s not only the beauty in it. No. It’s the sheer promise it carries.

“The reason I didn’t fuck you is because I needed to get you ready, but since you want it so bad…”

“I don’t.” I meant for my voice to be firm, but it’s similar to a moan.

What the hell is wrong with me? Do I…want this?

Before I can figure out an answer, Jonathan yanks the cover away. Now I have no defence line. Without his tailored clothes that somehow tame his raw self, he appears like the