Page 74 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Candy.” I meant to say it sternly, but it sounded confused and breathless and excited instead. Technically, that was what I had wanted. But when messing with Shehryar was in return messing with my head and emotions so badly, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to anymore. But at the same time…
Growing frustrated with myself, with him, with the whole fucking situation, I pushed against Candy’s chest. “Let go.” He loosened his arm, and I stepped back. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
I didn’t wait for his reply, and I didn’t stop when Pierre called out to me as he approached Candy with Trevor by his side. I charged through the crowd, heading between the two oak tables, and straight out the main entrance of the dining hall into the cooler, quieter corridor.
Without the noise buzzing loudly in my head, it was easier to breathe…but it was also easier to feel the throbbing ache between my legs, which wasn’t a result of Candy, as handsome as he was.
Feeling doubly frustrated when I realised I didn’t actually know where the closest bathroom or water closet was, I stepped in a circle, raking my hands through my tangled, sweat-damp hair. I remembered there was a water closet by the basement stairs and headed that way.
Washing the stickiness off my hands and face with cold water helped soothe some of the pent up emotions inside me, but it didn’t really change the reflection that stared back at me in the square mirror above the sink. My eyes were bright and glazed,and the heightened colour across my lightly freckled nose and cheeks didn’t seem like it was going to fade any time soon.
I looked ridiculously feverish. And not in theabout to fall sickway.
But in theI wanna get railedway.
But not by anyone. Just by the idiot I didn’t fucking like.
The thought made my thighs clench. I growled in annoyance and squeezed my eyes shut. But shutting my eyes brought back the feeling of his hot, large proximity, his hardening cock pushing into my belly, and my lashes shot up in alarm.
I didn’t want to imagine that. I really fucking didn’t.
I just wanted this aggravating feeling to go away. I wanted to forget it ever existed.
I wanted him out of my system. I wanted to kiss him—kill!I meant kill him. No, fucking way did I—
A steady knock sounded at the door, snapping my head up.
“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath and quickly pressed the backs of my damp hands to my cheeks. Louder, I said, “Gimme a second,” then dragged my bangs off my forehead with my hands once more, adjusted the straight neckline of my black dress, and headed for the door.
I didn’t immediately see who knocked. Confused, I went between wondering if the palace was haunted or if the person had decided to head to another toilet.
A hand latched viciously around my wrist.
Gasping, I whirled around, ready to throw the punch of my life, but my fist stopped midway when I saw who it was.
Shehryar.
No.Yes. No! He was the last person I wanted to see right now. Not that the leap my heart took would have convinced anyone so, but I immediately found enough anger to match the fury flooding off him in thick, dark waves. I squared up to him as I lowered my fist to my side.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed, yanking my wrist back, but all I did was pull his hand closer to my chest.
His nostrils flared. Without saying anything, he turned and pulled me with him.
“Shehryar!” I snapped, struggling and fighting him on a screaming, instinctual notion that this wasn’t a battle I was going to win or escape unscathed if I didn’t break free before he cornered me.
I didn’t free myself, and he dragged me around the corner and down two flights of stairs to the basement floor. It was only once we got down there that I managed to twist my sore wrist free, but I’d severely underestimated how quickly he could move for someone so bulky.
By the time I turned to run back up the stairs, he’d already encircled one tree-trunk arm around my waist. I shrieked his name in outrage, but he lifted me off the floor, walked me around, and dropped me on my feet again. I hardly had the chance to register the gold pattern painted on the red wall to the left of the banister before he spun me and shoved me back against it.
I battled his grip, but he held me firm, my hands pinned in his wrists on either side of my head. I panted for air, but so did he, our chests brushing on every heaving breath. He grunted when I clipped him in the shin with the front of my foot. But he kicked it apart from my other one and pressed his wide stance right between, our bodies writhing and rubbing together, torso against torso, until I grew breathless and tired and stopped fighting futilely.
“Get off me,” I tried to snap, but I was breathing too hard for it to sound like anything more than a hiss.
“Why?” he growled, his eyes dilated pools of icy flames. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A reaction from me?”
“Why the fuck would I want that?” I slapped back automatically despite the hiccup in my chest.
He held still for a second, then suddenly released me and stepped back.
