Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe, #1)(77)

Mine.

A frown pulls at my brows at the thought, but I don’t have time to think on it as he continues.

“I’m talking here.” He taps his finger against my temple, slowly dragging it to my chest, pressing above my left breast. “And here…way the fuck back in there where your soul sits, buried behind weak Giftless organs.” A frown mars his face as he stares at the spot he touches, as if searching for something. “I can feel it,” he whispers, his eyes closing, scowl doubling as he concentrates. “It’s there…something dark, and it’s reaching for me, but I can’t fucking…” A low rumble begins in his chest and something knocks behind mine, a sharp sting zinging down my spine. “The shadow of the phantom,” he murmurs to himself. “It walks alone, buried…bruised?”

Suddenly, his eyes fly open, and I stare at the stark whiteness of them, the blue completely gone. Days ago, when I thought I was going crazy, they terrified me.

Today? Not so much.

I want to know what makes them shift when he focuses on me like this. I want to know what’s inside him.

I want to know what all these hands on me can do.

“Tell me you feel this,” he roughly demands. “Tell me I’m inside you. That you’re not what you seem.” His entire body engulfs mine until I don’t exist. It’s just his body, just him, that does. “Tell me that you’re worthy, my little mate.”

His last line leaves him on a plea, almost as if he not only needs, but is secretly desperate for me to be ‘worthy’ of…whatever this is.

It shouldn’t appeal to me.

I should knee him in the nuts for insinuating I’m not.

But he wants me to be.

Even if he didn’t mean for me to sense it, I did. I do.

Knight hates me, but he’s not one hundred percent sure he wants to anymore.

Why does that make my insides burn for him?

I know it’s not what he means by the words, but I’m overcome with using them the way I want right now.

“Let me show you how worthy I can be.” I reach inside his suit jacket, gripping the latch of his belt.

Knight isn’t patient. He doesn’t wait, but understands, his palms falling on my shoulders and urging me to my knees. He snatches my chin once again. Pretty sure I’m going to have bruises on my body from him one of these days. “So show me. Suck my cock like my good little slut would.”

I whack his hands away but before I realize it, he hooks his arm around my waist and spins me so fast that I crash against the shelf behind me. “Try again.”

“Even if you were the last person on Earth…” I challenge, even though I know deep down it’s not true. It falls from my tongue effortlessly. Like a well-seasoned lie that I had recited all my life.

My eyes fall to the curve of his mouth. “Done.” He pulls me into his body and before I can catch my breath, colors melt around me and explosions of dust fall from above. My stomach flips upside down as he shoves me out of the archway and the portal snaps shut behind us.

I shiver, rubbing my hands over my upper arms as ice touches my feet. The lights are dim, but it’s obvious where we are. “Why’d you bring me to the rink?” I turn to face him, searching the shadows that have fallen over his face. The way his cheeks sink in slightly only eventuate the hard edges of his chiseled jaw.

“You said even if I was the last person on Earth…” he stretches his arms out wide, almost matching his smirk. “Have at it, girl…”

I pause, ignoring the fact that ice is melting beneath the soles of my feet.

I take another step closer to him, reaching up to touch the side of his cheek. For so long, it has been a constant back and forth with him, and maybe I liked it. No—I definitely liked it. I can’t imagine anything else ever being enough for me now that I’ve felt the fire of Knight’s wrath run circles over my inner thighs. What if it was just us?

For right now. For just this second, or hour, it is. Is this why he swept me away from everything else?

I am a fool.

I snatch my hands back before I can allow myself the possibility to explore whatever it is that he’s implying, but I’m not fast enough because my hand is wrapped in his just as quickly, as he shoves me closer against his chest. “Do whatever you want to me, Little London.” I hold my breath at his words, desperate for them to not feel so good. I hate that I can’t fight him, and any time I do it only makes it taste that much sweeter once he has me under his thumb.

He places his finger beneath my chin, tilting my face up until my eyes meet his. I feel my stomach implode when our eyes collide, and I’d give anything. Anything at all to allow myself to be lost in this moment forever. With him. Nothing else and with no outside noise. “Anything.”

I chew on my bottom lip. I’d never had an issue being confident amongst men—and women—alike. I’d walk into any room and fucking own it, because everything is yours if you believe it is. This is different. With him, it’s always so fucking different.

Stubbornly, I don’t allow him to see beneath my veil of lies. My hand comes to his bare chest as I trace each muscle, right down to the line that curves the middle of his abs. My skin burns hotter as time goes on, and any time I think I’m going to run, I’m reminded why I don’t want to.