Page 82 of The King's Maiden

The last thing I remembered was him releasing me from my bindings. He’d freed me from the ankle cuffs, his fingers rubbing over my skin to ease an ache I hadn’t voiced. With that simple touch, he’d calmed me, again nearly lulling me to sleep. But I remembered him climbing up the bed to undo the belt around my wrists from wherever he’d secured it.

Once my hands had been freed as well, he settled onto the bed beside me. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to watch over me as I fell asleep.

But he wasn’t there now.

I sat up, my brows furrowing as I scanned the dark room. The curtains let in a sliver of moonlight, but it still took me a second to find him.

He sat against the wall on the other side of the room. He’d propped his head against the dresser, legs stretched out in front of him so he could fall asleep. The remnants of a frown remained etched in his features. Even in his sleep, he looked serious.

Everything about him—hell, this entire situation—should’ve had me reinforcing my walls. The mental blocks I’d had with my ex should’ve been plated in titanium around a guy like Landon Scott. Instead, I could feel them slowly eroding.

Climbing off the bed, I crept over to where he slept and knelt beside him. His features shifted, brows dipping as he sensed a change in his environment. That sharp focus of his couldn’t be dampened. Not even by sleep.

He watched everything carefully, always aware of his surroundings. I had no idea what sort of life he’d lived so far to warrant that kind of constant vigilance. But he noticed everything, even the things I didn’t want him to see.

Things I didn’t wantanyoneto see.

Something about that made me feel…

Protected.

It made me feel safe. Something about the way he’d chosen to sleep on the floor instead of beside me felt…

Wrong.

I shouldn’t have felt anything about it. I certainly didn’t want to feel anything about it. But I did.

My hand came up to his forehead, brushing away the hair that had fallen onto it before resting on his thigh. It only tookhim a second to open his eyes. He glanced sharply around the room, his posture tensing as he sat up straight. His eyes darted down to where I touched him, the dip between his eyebrows deepening before they came back up to my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked hoarsely, searching my face for answers. “Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly. “I woke up and couldn’t find you. I?—”

His body relaxed against the wall, but the intensity of his eyes scrutinizing my face deepened.

My cheeks reddened. And I backpedaled hard from what I’d been about to admit, lying to him instead. “I had a nightmare.”

Because the truth was worse.

It was a ridiculous thought. Too many endorphins had addled my brain. A post-orgasmic mind scrambling. Only that could explain the feeling ofmissinghim when I’d woken up alone.

And he stared at me like he knew it.

Eyes darting to my hand and back to my face, his lips parted.

I rushed to my feet, refusing to look at him. “You should sleep in the bed.”

Once I had my bearings and a step between us, I forced my spine to straighten. When I glanced back at him, I immediately regretted it.

His eyesweren’ton my face.

My negligee—the one he’d pushed up before feasting on my cunt like it was his last fucking meal—had ridden up again. And the hooded way he stared at me had nothing to do with sleep. He ate up the expanse of my bare legs as his gaze lifted, inching closer to the apex of my thighs.

Desire pooled between my legs in response.

His nostrils flared.

I slapped my hands down, hastily covering myself and snapping his eyes back to my face.

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