“I’ll do that later,” I mouth to myself as I wash my face in the bathroom sink.
Organizing the show took twice as long as usual, since my beast of a husband wouldn’t leave the room. And, because my panties had been wet ever since he snapped at me again.
Why do I like that?!
And okay, if I’m being honest, even though I was a little terrified for Orlando, the second I turned and saw King storming across the room, my core started tingling.
I didn’t need his protection at that moment, but I love that he so willingly gives it.
And breaking a man’s arms?
That should bother me.
I’m sure it should.
But I can’t decide if I’ve always had this twisted part inside of me that enjoys violent vengeance, and King just unlocked it, or if I’ve spent too much time, too close to the devil, and his darkness is just seeping into my soul.
I pat my face dry and think about how King looked, leaned back, manspreading in that chair, watching me work.
God, I wanted to climb onto his lap and beg him to just fuck me already.
My body pulses.
I need to give in.
I need some dick.
