Reign of a King (Kingdom Duet #1) by Rina Kent
“Indeed.”
My gaze slides back to Jonathan to find his entire attention on me, not the sky. Me. My cheeks heat as if I’m a teenager with a crush. Jeez.
“What’s your demand?” he asks.
“Demand?”
“You said you’d tell me when we were out of the restaurant.”
I trap the corner of my lower lip under my teeth, then release it.
“Any day now, Aurora.”
“Hold on, let me think about it.”
“If you need to think about it, then maybe you don’t really want it.”
“Stop putting words in my mouth like a tyrant.”
“If you want something, voice it. Otherwise it’ll never happen.”
“Kiss me.”
He pauses, seeming taken aback by the request, but his expression turns back to normal. “Why?”
“There doesn’t need to be a why. Do I ask you why when you sit me on your lap or spank me?”
“You like that.”
“Doesn’t matter. It still counts.”
I know why it would seem like a weird request from his point of view, but from mine, I’m taking things a step further. It’s the power I paid so much to acquire. This is one more way to stop Jonathan from being distant and aloof.
“Do it already. It’s just a kiss —”
Jonathan’s hand wraps around my nape and he claims my lips. The softness of my curves moulds to the hard ridges of his body as his mouth takes complete control of mine.
His kiss is dominant and intense, like the rest of him. I’m a rag doll in his hold, my breathing and sanity stolen by his skin, his touch, and sheer power.
By the way his body becomes one with my own and the firm hold of his strong hand around my nape.
I’m a goner.
A complete and utter goner.
He angles my head back and ravishes me with growing intensity and need. Almost like he can’t stop. Almost like he’ll continue kissing me for eternity.
But he does. Stop, that is.
As he pulls away, he tests my balance; when my unsteady legs fail me, he grabs me by the waist to keep me standing.
His grey eyes clash with mine in a war of hurricanes and storms, and I realise then how fucked I really am over this man.
I was wrong. It wasn’t just a kiss.
32
Jonathan
It’s strange how change can happen so fast, yet it feels so slow.
Change is one of the things I control with an iron fist. Nothing is allowed to leave my grip, no matter how small or insignificant it is.
That’s how I keep my life and my kingdom in order. Some people need to be told what to do so that they stay efficient, and I’m happy to play the role of the whip that snaps them into shape.
Aurora calls me a tyrant. A control freak.
At first, she used to mutter it under her breath, but slowly, she’s been saying those things out loud.
I stand over the bed, where she’s lying on her side — my bed. She hasn’t left it since the day she manipulated her way into it two weeks ago.
Is it considered manipulation if I already knew her plan and still went along with it?
Probably not. But that’s how change strikes into your life. At first, it seems unnoticeable, like her toothbrush beside mine or her apple shampoo bottle on the shelf in my bathroom.
It’s as little as her scent with my clothes and the fact that I can smell her on me, even while I’m at work. Which is distracting as fuck, considering the blood that rushes to my dick whenever I think about her.
Then when you don’t control that change and let it loose, it becomes as serious as looking forward to coming home, to the point of cutting meetings short. It can also become as petty as pulling strings from the background so that an associate of mine would offer that Malik guy a job in a big law firm in the United States, making him scarce from her immediate vicinity.
Black Belt is the only one I begrudgingly approve of.
Even Harris will get a warning to stop joking around or arguing or whatever those two do whenever they’re in the same room. I don’t like how she finds it easy to get lost in an argument with him but forces her brain into overdrive when it comes to me.
Aurora is always thinking about ways to outsmart me and get what she wants. I indulge her and even let her win sometimes.
I know. I, Jonathan King, who makes sure to crush anyone who goes against him, is letting someone win.
There’s a good reason for that. Her expression lights up whenever she gets something from me, thinking she’s snatched it away. There’s also the way her breathing hitches when she asks me to kiss her or hug her as part of her demands.
The way she sneaks into my bed and mumbles half-asleep that I can punish her for it in the morning.
It’s those little things; the smile on her face, the awe in her stormy eyes, and the way she watches me.
The way she pretends I’m bugging her but then begs me to fuck her until she’s screaming my name.
The way she says I’m boring yet barges into my office and pushes Harris away so I’ll teach her chess.
“It must be a dull game,” she said while Harris grumbled in the background before leaving.
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“Because you like it.”
“What will you do for me if I change your mind?”
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