Page 49 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
Do I thank him? I’m pondering the question when he rises to his full height, dwarfing me by nearly a foot, something I hadn’t noticed until we were forced into such close proximity.
“Get dressed. You’re making us late for dinner.” He strides from the bathroom, but doesn’t leave the bedroom before tossing his parting words over his shoulder. “And don’t forget the toy, or I’ll take it as a direct invitation to bend you over the dining room table and fuck your tight little cunt while they serve the first course.”
Keira
Shockingly, Mount pulls out my chair and pushes it in while I take my seat at the massive dining room table that looks like it could easily seat twenty people. His place setting is at the head, and I’ve been seated directly to his left.
I don’t make eye contact with him as I sit, because I swear the man can read my mind.
To my shame, his parting words made me wet enough that there was no need to search for lube to slide the toy back inside me where he demanded.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I should be disgusted and repulsed. Screaming for someone to let me out of this damn house—which I still haven’t gotten to see because Scar hooded me and carried me to dinner. But instead, all I can do is picture Mount grabbing a fistful of my hair and holding it tight while he bends me over the table and mounts me like his name suggests.
Again, what the hell is wrong with me?
There’s fucking with someone’s head, and th
en there’s what Mount is doing to me. I don’t think a name has been invented for it yet. I’m pretty sure it’s not Stockholm Syndrome, because I definitely hate him and would run in the opposite direction the second I got the chance, if there weren’t threats hanging over the heads of my friends and family like guillotine blades. Then there are the two warring parts of me—the one that wants what he threatens, and the one that rebels against every word of it.
“Do I need to check?” Mount’s deep voice whispers in my ear as he releases my chair.
Before I can respond, the toy buzzes to life and I jolt in my seat, giving him his answer.
“I didn’t think so.”
I want to slap that arrogant smirk off his face, but I can’t even imagine the consequences for that action. Thankfully, the vibrator stills before the first course is served. By the time I’ve finished spooning up my oyster soup in silence and it’s been cleared away, I know what I have to do.
“We need to talk terms.”
The efficient waitstaff serve the salad course before Mount responds. “The only terms to be discussed were those of your willing submission. You agreed. End of discussion.”
I drop my fork and the silver clanks against the delicate china plate. I’m too pissed to give proper thought to how strange it is that a man as brutal as Mount would surround himself with such finery.
“No. That’s not how negotiations work.”
He raises one dark eyebrow at my response, and I have to wonder if that’s an ability bestowed only upon arrogant men specifically for moments like this.
“Besides, this conversation is about the end of our bargain. I need to know exactly how long you’re going to keep me here, because you’re screwing with my life and my business.”
The smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth is one I’m beginning to recognize, and it never precedes anything good for me. “So eager to repay your debt and be done with me?”
“Absolutely.” I spit the word out like something foul.
Mount, dressed in a suit that fits him to perfection as usual, rests his forearms on the table and leans in. “There is no end to our bargain until I’m done with you.”
Rage, my familiar friend, builds in my belly. “And when will that be?” I try to keep the question as civil as possible.
His smirk turns lopsided, throwing fuel on the fire. “I’ll make sure to send you notice in writing.”
If my eyeballs could shoot flames across the table, Mount would be incinerated in mere moments.
“That’s bullshit,” I say, my bravery growing.
All traces of humor fade from his face. Did I cross the line?
“No, what’s bullshit is that my repayment is in the form of pleasure, and I haven’t gotten a single fucking bit of it from you yet.”
