Page 157 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Explain it to me.”
I fumbled for a reply, making incoherent choked syllables as I opened and closed my mouth. “I don’t know how to explain it. Just stop.”
His mouth curved up wolfishly, and my leg muscles began quivering like jelly. “I don’t think I want to if it’s going to make you this flustered,” he purred, tightening his arm around my waist. “And it feels good. Looking at you.Seeing you.What lies behind the menacing attitude. Because while I enjoy bantering and arguing with you, I like catching glimpses of parts of you I’ve never had the chance of seeing before.”
With our chests pressed together, I couldn’t tell whose heart was pounding so hard, mine or his, but either way the pressure on my chest was immense. And yet it felt fucking magical.
His piercing pale eyes took on an earnest glow. “There are generic things I know about you from years of watching you, but I want to know everything else too. So yes, when you show me something new, I stare at you like an idiot, because despite all the ways you drive me mad, everything seems to click into place like I’m finally standing where I should be.”
There was no music, no people, no sounds of laughter around us.
My entire focus—every sense, every reaction, every feeling—centred only on Shehryar, turning everything else into a distant blur of nothing.
From the bottom of my bare feet to my scalp, I pulsed as one nerve ending, buzzing with energy and hypersensitive to the feel of him all around me. His heat, his large frame, his pinning stare, his faint smile. And I understood why he said everything seemed to click into place.
That was how it felt. Like the last puzzle piece fell into place, firing a zing through my blood.
It wasn’t until Shehryar started swaying us again that the world around us aligned back into place, and I released the breath I’d been holding in a flood.
“You’re serious about this…” I mumbled neither as a question nor a statement.
“I am.” His hand caressed up my spine. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, I just…it’s kind of…surreal how quickly things changed.”
He grinned as his fingers snuck under my hair and teased across my nape. “Might be because you’re far less annoying and mouthy now.”
I scoffed and pulled a narrow-eyed look of disagreement. “Okay, relax, dickhead. You’re the one who decided to be annoying first. I was just paying you back.”
“I know.” He surprised me by leaning forward and planting a long kiss on my forehead. My heart hiccupped, and I blinked dumbfounded as he added, “But I’ll make it up to you, little menace.”
He just—that was just…ah fuck, I’m screwed.
The prickle of his beard and imprint of his wide mouth lingered on my skin as he gently pushed me away by the waist. With a flick of his wrist, he spun me back into him. My back was against his chest as he coiled his arm around my belly, but something made him pause.
“You’re wearing it.” He lowered his face beside mine as he lifted my hand in his.
I followed his gaze to the bracelet. Made up of two chains, one slightly thicker than the other, it was a beautifully delicate silver piece. The thinner chain was of a simple twisted pattern, but the thicker chain had a single sage-green gemstone dangling from it—my favourite colour.
“Prince Arsh said you chose it.” I sunk into his arm to eye him properly. “How did you know I prefer silver? And sage-green is my favourite colour. Or is that just a coincidence?”
His thumb traced over the stone as he smiled. “The same way you knew I’d like the watch with the exposed clockwork.”
My chest expanded with satisfaction. “You saw the watch?”
“I did.” His eyes sharpened in question. “Would you like to explain the engraving on the back?”
Amusement lit up inside me. “I don’t think there’s anything to explain.” Arching my back, I subtly rocked my arse against his groin. “You know exactly what it means.”
His breath hitched in my ear, and he quickly grasped my hip, stopping me. I shuddered as power and excitement whizzed down my spine. He pressed his mouth heavily over my ear, and that whizz of sensation dissolved into molten tingles.
“How many times,” he growled, “am I going to have to fuck you for you to stop calling it a peanut?”
My lashes fluttered, desperately trying to shut and give in to the heady feeling of his voice and breath in my ear. “Can’t fuck it out of me, Sheri. It will always be a peanut.”
“Is that so?”
“Hmm,” I moaned. “And I don’t think you really hate it. Do you…Daddy?”
