I drop back onto the comforter when King steps into the bathroom.
I’m panting like I just ran for my life, which I have some experience with now. But this…
A shiver, not of cold, rolls over my skin.
It might be the intensity of the man himself, or the intensity of all our sexual interactions, but there’s something forming between us.
And ours might be a bond that started in trauma, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore.
King steps back into the room, holding a wet cloth.
Sapped of all energy, I let him clean his mess off me without offering to help.
Instead, I lift my hand to look at the ginormous ring.
“You like it?”
His question is so absurd I laugh.
He pauses his ministrations and I look up to see him frowning.
“Do I like it?” Turning my hand over so he can see the ring, I lift my brows. “Are we looking at the same ring? Because this thing is gorgeous. It’s utterly ridiculous, but it’s gorgeous.”
“Glad you think so. It’ll never leave your finger.”
Ah, yep, there’s the asshole.
“Husband,” I say the name slowly to placate him. “This thing probably costs more than my van did. When it was new,” I clarify, since the price I got for my van at that shady dealer a few days ago wouldn’t even pay for the platinum band the diamonds are attached to.
“So what?” King doesn’t even pretend like the ring wasn’t stupid expensive.
“So, I will take it off while I paint.” I raise my voice on the last three words to drown out his immediate complaint. “You can use your piles of money to put a safe in my studio, right next to the door, then I can put it back on every night when I’m done.”
I feel like I’m bargaining with a child, but it must work because he dips his chin.
Well, since I’m on a roll…
“I also need a way to listen to music while I paint. I have headphones, but since you took my phone, I don’t have anything to pair them with.”
He swipes the cloth once more over my chest, “I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”
I don’t know what it is, but I decide not to ask and just take it as a win.
King walks to the wall of windows and drags the curtains shut.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“We’re taking a nap.” He says it like I already agreed.
But when he pulls the blankets down, I get up from my spot at the foot of the bed and climb onto the mattress. A nap does sound kind of nice.
I wait as he strips to his boxers, then joins me under the covers.
I settle against my spot on his chest, placing my left hand on his stomach, watching how the diamonds sparkle even in the low light.
“You’re my wife, Savannah. And that’s never going to change.” His words rumble against my ear. “But I won’t fuck you again until you ask me to.”
