I swallow and press my palms my thighs. “Here I am.”
He steps forward, and my heartbeat begins to pick up speed. “You’re good with him.”
“Not my first time wrangling a drunk asshole into a car.”
He backs me against the Tesla. “I saw you take off with Lindsey.”
“She didn’t do anything to you.” I press my palms to the cool metal to ground myself. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“She doesn’t deserve you,” he says, lifting a hand to stroke my hair back. Relief floods through me, and I can finally breathe, knowing he’s not pissed about it.
“Guess you didn’t find Preston,” I say.
“Didn’t expect to.”
“What would you have done if you had?”
“We would have dragged him,” he says, closing the distance between us and pressing me up against the car. He pushes his thigh between mine again, cradling my face and leaning down to kiss me. I try to focus on his mouth and not the image of them killing Lindsey’s brother in that particularly barbaric, redneck way. Dragging is exactly what it sounds like—tying someone to a truck and dragging them behind it until they’re dead.
He breaks our kiss, pushing my chin back and dipping lower to kiss along my neck, sending shivers racing through me. I’m so fucking attracted to him I can’t stand it. “You’re sick,” I whisper, burying my hand in his thick, dark hair.
“You love it,” he says, rocking against the apex of my thighs. The seam of my jeans bites into my flesh almost painfully while his tongue traces the shell of my ear.
“Does hurting people turn you on?” I ask, dropping my head back against the car but clinging to his shoulders, loving the size of them, the way my hands only begin to cover the huge muscles.
“You turn me on,” he says, nuzzling my shirt down, his chin rasping against the swell of my breast as he runs his tongue over my skin. “Sometimes I just gotta destroy something before it happens.”
His fingers undo my jeans, slipping down the front. I catch his wrist, trying to slow my breath and stop my head from spinning. “I haven’t shaved in a couple days,” I say.
“I can feel that,” he says, his fingers spreading my lips to find my swollen clit.
I suck in a breath and nearly go weak, but my own sense of self-preservation kicks in and I start wriggling against him. “I fought tonight. I haven’t showered.”
“Good,” he says, pulling back to watch my face as he slides a finger through my soaked slit. “I want to lick your dirty cunt until you make a mess all over my face, Harper. I want to smell you all over me when I go home tonight. I’ll cum just thinking about the way you taste.”
“I thought you didn’t like—” I break off with a gasp when he thrusts a finger deep inside me.
“I told you not to believe a word I say,” he says, pumping his finger rhythmically into me. “I fucking love the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you cum. It makes me lose my fucking mind. Now lean back and wrap your legs around my neck and let me suck the cum out of your cunt.”
“People can see us,” I say, closing my eyes and gripping the car, afraid I’ll collapse if I try to stand on my trembling legs. We’re too far from the house for anyone to see us in detail, but they’ll be able to tell what we’re doing.
“Let them watch,” Royal says, easing my zipper down. “They’ve never seen their king on his knees.”