Page 20 of King: Darker Than Romance

By that time, I was hysterical, shaking and crying.

“You’re trying to fucking kill us.” My tone was frantic.

He glared at me like he didn’t give a fuck if we lived or died. His eyes were pitch black.

“Do that again and I’ll fucking hurt you. “He continued to glare at me until I could physically feel his anger. I sank back into my seat.

He put his attention back on the road. He pulled off the shoulder and started driving again, but this time safely. Still my entire body trembled. I wanted so bad to ask him where we were going, but I was too scared. I cowered next to the door. Staring out the window helped dispel some of the panic that was fraying my nerves. What was he about to do to me? I wanted to ask him, but I was scared to set him off.

He got on the Howard Franklin leading us out of St. Pete to Tampa. He drove in complete silence, anger radiating off of him in waves.

Finally, he pulled up to a hotel across from the University of Tampa. I was relieved because I knew where I was and how to get home in case, I had to run away from him. He got out the car, taking the gun with him. Just watching him tuck it in the holster on his side paralyzed me with fear. He came around to the passenger side and snatched me from the car. He opened his mouth to say something but must have read the fear on my face. He took the gun from his holster, he shoved it in the glove compartment then slammed it, then the door.

My relief was audible. I exhaled loudly.

“Fucking behave, Eden. Don’t make me show you a side of myself you won’t like,” he warned before he intertwined our fingers and pulled me to one of the rooms. He opened the door with a key and shoved me in. “Sit your ass down.” He pointed the chairs in the corner of the room.

Afraid, I did exactly what he had told me. I made my way over to one of the high back leather chairs and sat quietly while he removed his tennis shoes. The suit he had been wearing earlier had been replaced with black skinny jeans and a band t-shirt.

My gaze travelled down the length of him. I dropped my head shamefully. Something was wrong with me. He had just dragged me out of a car kicking and screaming, pulled a gun on my friend and basically kidnapped me and my first thought when I got a good look at him was I liked the way his muscles looked pressed against his shirt, and the way he filled out his jeans.

I looked around the room instead of focusing on him to calm my nerves. It was unlike any hotel room I’d been in before. It looked a lotlike his room back at home. A platform bed occupied most of the space and a large black wood dresser sat beside it. A fifty-inch TV hung from the wall. The room smelled like him too. In that moment, I realized that probably was where he went when he disappeared.

“You should have listened,” he said. I snatched my head in his direction. There was rage swirling in his eyes. That was the only warning I got before he charged me like a mad man, I barely had time to throw my hand up to block my face before I was being lifted from my seat. I thought for sure he was going to hit me. Instead, he carried me the few steps to the bed, then slammed me on my back down onto the mattress. I yelped. The headboard banging against the wall drowned it out.

I tried to scoot back, to get away but King grabbed my foot and pulled me back to the middle of the bed., He snatched my legs open then dropped himself, all two hundred of his pounds, landing directly on top of me. All the air left lungs like a deflating balloon. I had only a second to catch my breath before his fingers were clasped around my throat, squeezing. Breathing became hard. I was scared if I fought, I’d pass out, so I laid still concentrating on trying to breathe through my nose. He snatched my shorts and panties off. His nails dragged against my skin scratching my thighs. I winced.

As soon as I was naked below the waist, he roughly pushed two fingers inside of me as if he was testing the tightness. What was fucked up was my body didn’t know whether to be petrified or aroused. I was scared, really scared, and a ball of humiliation sat in the cave of my belly. But my body was winding itself up to orgasm and my pussy was sloppy wet. I fought against the urge to moan. Fisting the sheets, I tried thinking of anything that would calm my body down, but all I could do is feel him fingering my pussy. I liked the ache, had been trained to like his roughness.

Just as I was about to cum he snatched his fingers from inside me. My body ached for relief. I clenched my eyes closed tightly so he couldn’t see the lust swirling in their depths. I didn’t want him to think anything he’d done to me was right.

“Did you fuck him tonight?” There was a menacing edge to his tone.

“N- no, I didn’t.” I stumbled over my words, making them sound untrue.

“Did you fuck him, Eden?” he roared as he grabbed my face with his free hand. “Open your fucking eyes, Eden, and answer my question.”

I opened them. “No, I didn’t.” My voice shook as I looked him directly in the eyes.

He must have believed me because he let me go all at once and stood.

“Get your ass up and go fucking shower. I can smell his stench on you.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I raised myself up from the bed. I didn’t look back. Careful not to trip over my own two feet, I hurried to the bathroom. I took my time in the shower. I must have stayed in there an hour. I was scared to face him and scared that if I didn’t, he would be even more pissed. I left the bathroom naked. It was freezing in the room and I still hadn’t gotten comfortable being completely nude in front of him, but I didn’t dare say anything.

He was occupying the chair he had snatched me from with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to him on the floor. The vein on his temple pulsed. He was still very angry.

I had barely made it into the room before he was shoving a pizza box in my hand. “Eat.”

It was weird, him acting normal like nothing had happened. I was too afraid to broach the subject, so instead I did what he said. I ate.

I tried not to meet his gaze as I sat ramrod straight on the bed. I choked down greasy pizza and Pepsi, not tasting any of it. My gaze kept involuntarily sliding to him. His expressionless face told me nothing. But his methodical gaze stayed on me, unnerving me.

He tipped his glass and drank, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Nervous energy had my knees bouncing. The whole time I was holding the pizza box like a protective shield.

I had watched him so hard, anticipating his next move that when he spoke, I jumped slightly.

“Why him, Eden? Why’d you go to him? “His voice was cold and detached.

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