Page 109 of Wanted By a King

As soon as Rhiannon leaves, Gunner offers me a drink, which I decline. After pouring himself a generous amount, he turns back to me.

“So what do you need my help with, Sugar? Do you need me to show you how to braid your hair like the Mother of Dragons?”

I smile at the joke, glad he’s acting like his normal self. It makes it less intense being here in his room.

Shaking my head, I catch his eyes. “I want revenge for what Grayson has done to me.”

I know I’m running a big risk by being here, but Alana can only help me so much. I need someone else on my side, or I might as well concede and forget all about it.

Gunner swirls the amber liquid in his glass. “I see,” he says, not giving anything away. “What did you have in mind?”

I wring my hands nervously in front of me. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But I want to humiliate him.”

Trying not to fidget as Gunner scrutinizes me is beyond hard. I suddenly don’t remember how I usually stand, or what I do with my arms and hands. Do they always just hang limply at my side? Do I cross them?

A genuine smile spreads across Gunner’s face, he even chuckles. “I’m in,” he says, finally putting me out of my misery. “I’ll help you come up with something, Sugar. But it can’t be anything too over the top. No matter what he’s done to you, he’s still my friend and VP.”

Relief washes over me as I nod. “That’s fair,” I say, returning his smile. “Thank you.”

After once again declining his offer of something to drink, I also take a rain check on a hug since he’s still only wearing the bedsheet.

As soon as we said goodnight, I finally let my feet carry me to Grayson’s room. Despite demanding my own room, I’m still sharing with him. When I confronted him about it, reminding him that he agreed, he just smirked like the bastard he is, and said his ‘okay’ was him acknowledging my demands, not agreeing to them.

Even though I never expected to get what I asked for, it still annoyed me to no end. Mostly because that’s the second time he’s got the better of me. And I don’t like losing. Huh, maybe that’s the real reason I want revenge. I want to be the one to win, even if it’s just once.

Zoe

Ibreatheasighof relief as I enter, finding the room cast in darkness. The only sound is Grayson’s deep snoring. Seriously, it’s so loud I wonder how I’ve been able to sleep through it for so many nights. Tonight, I welcome it. If he’d been awake, there’d be no way to hide the phone or handcuffs.

Using the phone’s flashlight, I illuminate the path to the bathroom. I’m trying to be as quiet as possible, which just makes every noise sound all the louder. The tap water roars like Niagara Falls. Luckily, it’s all in my mind, and Grayson doesn’t once stop snoring.

Walking back into the main room, I immediately notice him almost spreadeagle on the bed. His nudity is on full display, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the patch of dark hair beginning just below his belly button.

Mindlessly, I lick my lips as I devour the trail all the way to his semi-hard cock that’s resting against his stomach. I can’t help smiling slyly, this is going to be all too easy.

I snap some pictures of him with my new phone. It’s disappointing, to say the least. The power rush I expected doesn’t come at all. He’s sleeping, and thus, completely unaware of my thoughts of revenge.

The times Grayson humiliated me and exerted his dominance, I’ve been wide awake. Completely aware of what he was doing. I want—need—the same. Obviously, this won’t do.

I can’t take my eyes off of him as I put the phone down. Grayson’s body is a fucking work of art. Even in his sleep, his bulging muscles create deliciously enticing grooves. The tattoos and scars are like a tapestry of stories, and I want to uncover every single one.

My personal favorite is the cut I left last night.

Soundlessly, I strip out of my clothes, only leaving my panties on, and hide the phone under the bunch of fabric while clutching the handcuffs tightly. Then I get on the bed, careful not to move more than I have to. I shouldn’t have bothered because Grayson is fast asleep, barely moving except for the rise and fall of his chest.

Without missing a beat, I straddle him and move up so I can reach the headboard to weave the metal chain through it. Then I take a steady breath, trying to quieten my heart that’s thundering in my chest, and there’s even a sheen of sweat covering my forehead. Fuck, I shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s not like I’m doing anything I shouldn’t… not really.

Holding my breath, I force my trembling fingers around his wrist, and pull until his hand is close enough that the cuffs can reach. Then I quickly close the handcuff around his skin before doing the same to his other hand.

Shimmying back down his body, I cock my head to admire my handiwork. It might not be a lot, but I’m still fucking proud of myself.

As if giving me a nudge of approval, Grayson’s cock jerks. It makes me ponder his need to arouse me while I’m sleeping. I’ll forever deny it to his face, but I like it more than I should. It’s fucking heaven to wake up with his face or cock between my legs, and yeah, I like the way my brain shuts off. It allows me to feel, to be there with him without feeling guilty.

Again, his dick twitches, reminding me that I’ve found the perfect place to sit. I experimentally roll my hips once, twice. Each movement has it growing, and it takes no time before he’s hard as a rock beneath me.

I peek up at him from beneath my lashes. He’s no longer snoring like a sailor. His eyelids flutter lightly, like he’s trying to open his eyes. But his breathing is still too deep for him to be awake. Fuck, I wasn’t aware I knew his body that well. It’s beyond me when I’ve even had time to notice these things.

Shaking my head, I banish the myriad of thoughts from my mind. Instead, I focus on Grayson. Having him this pliant is… fuck, it’s intoxicating. This isn’t about him taking or pushing me. This is all me and my pleasure.

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