Page 54 of Lords of Misrule
“Hudson.” I reach up and cradle his jaw, a hint of stubble there as he looks down at me. He rocks forward again, holding the pressure tight, and my clit throbs with how badly I want him. My heart’s just as desperate to show him he’s wanted.
He bows his head, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear with a featherlight kiss before he whispers, “Just tell me. In a world where they don’t exist, do you let me in?”
“Yes,” I confess, realizing when I say the word how much I want it. How much I see Hudson as mine even if he’s not.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and then he looks away.
“I need a shower,” he announces abruptly, pulling away from me.
We both sit up, and he slides to the edge of the bed.
“I do too,” I admit. It’s been a long day of faking it together. Stressing about whether or not we’re believable as a couple. Wondering if this whole thing would blow up in our faces.
“Good. I want to watch you.” He looks back over his shoulder at me, his lashes leaving his blue eyes darker than normal.
“Watch me?”
“It’s the one thing I’m allowed to do, right?” There’s a bitter tone to his voice, but his eyes dance with mischief all the same. “So it’s what I want, for being a good fucking little soldier and doing what Rowan asked of me. What I want from you for always turning those fuck-me eyes on me.”
“I have not—” I start to protest, and he tilts his head, just the slightest bit like he’s silently asking me not to lie. “It was just the once,” I say softly.
“When I walked in on you three and you sucked Rowan’s cock while you watched me like it was mine? Yeah. I remember it. Vividly.”
“So you want to watch me shower?”
“You know what I want. Unless you want me to go downstairs.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. I don’t want him going anywhere. I’ve always respected his relationship with his ex, and never felt particularly jealous over it. It was what it was. He was off-limits. But now, the thought of him finding someone else makes my chest ache.
“No,” I admit, and then I get up slowly, my fingers going to the zipper on my dress, pulling it down bit by bit as I walk to the bathroom to turn on the water in the shower. I come back out, slipping out of the dress, and tossing it over my suitcase before I look at him expectantly, nodding toward the bathroom.
He follows me in, leaning against the counter as we watch the steam start to rise. I slip my bra off and then my underwear. Looking at him when he doesn’t move to take off any of his clothes.
“I don’t trust myself in there.”
“You’re going to stay out here?”
He nods.
“The shirt at least?” I’ve seen Hudson shirtless enough to know that everything under the button-up he’s wearing is fantasy material. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know why his ex would choose anyone else but him.
Twenty-Eight
Hudson
“Undo the buttons for me. I can’t handle fucking tiny buttons right now.” I try to undo them, but my fingers aren’t exactly dexterous at the moment. I’m drunk and tired. Too fucking busy staring at her naked fucking body to be able to focus on how buttons work.
She steps forward, and I lean back against the counter, bracing my hands there to watch her. Too afraid I’ll touch her if I don’t keep them occupied. Especially when I can feel her breath against my chest as she works on them, unbuttoning each one at a slow pace all the way down my chest. When she hits the bottom, she has to pull the shirt from where it’s tucked into the slacks I’m wearing, and that movement creates the tiniest bit of friction on my cock. A teasing motion that makes me want more. So much more of her that I fucking want.
She undoes the last button and then pulls the shirt apart, pushing it back over my shoulders and dragging it down my arms. It forces her to lean closer and the tips of her nipples graze over my chest.
“That’s enough.” It comes out harsher than I intend, and she steps back while I toss the shirt on the counter.
“Sorry,” she says softly and turns toward the shower, the sway of her ass as she steps in is almost more than I can resist. A flash of her pinned against the tile while I take her from behind, listening to her moanmyname comes unbidden, and I have to put my hands back on the counter.
She slides under the spray of water, wetting her hair, and the steam from the shower obscures enough that I feel like I can focus again. I want this. Need this really to be able to get out of this hotel room with my dignity intact. I was only half joking about going downstairs. Rejected by my ex and constantly taunted by Charlotte’s existence in every single nook and crevice of my life is driving me to a cliff’s edge. One that I’m worried I’m gonna fall over.
She grabs the handheld spray and runs it over the glass, clearing some of the fog there before she puts it back and stares at me. Her eyes drift over my chest and arms, nibbling on her lower lip as she studies me. There’s lust in her eyes and that at least gives me some consolation.
