Page 103 of Reign of a Billionaire

My gaze roamed his bedroom, a bracelet of teeth dipped in silver and gold catching my eye. I narrowed my eyes as the whispers in my mind grew louder, but I quickly shut them down.

We’d settle this once and for all.

“Go back to your room,” he croaked, shadows moving in his eyes.

Silver rays from the moon filtered through the open windows, illuminating his half-naked body.

“Is it me?” I asked, my voice cracking. No answer, only heavy silence. “When are you finally going to tell me what I did? I’m sick of you speaking in riddles, I want real answers.”

Suddenly, I knew, this moment was it. This would determine the rest of our lives.

“It’s not?—”

I cut him off. “If you give me one of thoseIt’s not you, it’s melines, I swear to God, Kingston, I’m going to murder you.”

He looked up at me then, and what I saw on his face was a brand-new emotion. The turmoil and warmth in it made my breath catch.

“Come here.”

My body didn’t even hesitate to obey the command.

I felt vulnerable as I padded toward him, every inch of me trembling with anger and anticipation. He parted his legs, and I stepped between them.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hands skimming up the backs of my thighs with a featherlight touch. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Who knew such simple words could hold such weight. “Will you forgive me?”

“You…” I inhaled a deep breath. “You confuse me.” He looked at me like he was waiting for me to catch up. “Don’t make me… sad.”

His fingers tightened on my thighs, digging into my flesh. “Do you regret it?”

I inhaled sharply. “I thought it was”—Incredible.My fingers laced through his dark hair—“intense.”

His jaw clenched. “But do you regret it?”

“No.” Maybe it made me the bad, selfish sister, but I didn’t. “Not even for a second.”

He let out a tense breath and pulled me closer, pressing his face into my stomach. A shudder erupted beneath my skin, warm from his soft touch.

“You’re mine. Fuckingmine.” He bit the outline of my nipple through my shirt. “I’ll slaughter anyone who ever puts a finger on you again.”

“You’re not a good man.”

“I’m not.”

“Good. I don’t need a good man.” My heart pounded at an awkward rhythm, wisps of a memory creeping into the corners of my mind. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” I croaked, my voice too raw, too desperate, as his face blurred through the mist in my eyes. I straddled him and his fingers grew firmer on my thighs, the fiery heat of his palms burning through my skin.

“I have to remove the weapons from under the mattress,” he rasped, bringing his lips to mine. Our lips touched, but this kiss was… It was tender and lingering,blindinglypassionate. A shiver skated down my spine like a lit match as he traced his lips along mine, his hot breath fanning my mouth.

This kiss was the kind you felt down to your toes. The kind that romance authors wrote about and schoolgirls dreamt about.

“I sleep with weapons too,” I breathed against his lips. “Back home, anyway,” I added, hoping my reminder that he was keeping me here as a pseudo-prisoner didn’t kill the mood.

He smiled against my lips, and I slid off his lap.

It took a minute to clear out the weapons, and another minute for us to settle on the bed. Then I slid under the covers next to him and pressed my head against his chest, listeningto his strong heartbeat. I listened to him breathe and found comfort in it.

“I like how you smell,” I murmured against his chest, his constant petting soothing everything inside me. “My favorite flavor.”

He stilled for a moment, then let out a soft breath. “You, sunshine, are my favorite flavor.” My brows furrowed at the change of the nickname.