TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 108

CHAPTER 73: BE QUIET FOR ME–2

He catches my hand before I can pull away, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.

“Later. When she’s asleep. Twant you.”

“Is that a command, Your Majesty?”

“It’s a promise.”

The warmth in his voice follows me as I deal with Rayana’s water demands. Too much ice. Not enough ice. “Acceptable, barely.”

The morning crawls by in a haze of complaints and adjustments and the constant low–level irritation of having someone in your space who knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Around ten–thirty, Rayana finally falls into genuine sleep. The medication combined with blood loss has apparently exhausted even her.

Her breathing evens out, her face relaxing into something almost peaceful, and I slip out of the guest room with relief flooding through my bones.

Knox finds me in the kitchen, making yet another cup of coffee. He doesn’t say anything, just moves up behind me and slides his arms around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.

“She’s asleep,” I tell him.

“Finally.” His mouth finds the curve of my neck. “Been waiting all morning for this.”

“For what? Watching me mainline caffeine?”

“For having you to myself.” His hands slide under my shirt, palms warm against my bare stomach. “Without

an audience critiquing the thread count.”

“We can’t. She might wake up.”

“She just fell asleep.” He presses closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “We have time.”

“Knox…”

He spins me around and I’m pressed against the counter, caged in by his arms. But there’s nothing rushed

about it. He just looks at me for a moment, his thumbs tracing slow circles on my hips.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi yourself.”

“Missed you.”

“I’ve been right here.”

“Not like this.” His nose brushes mine, a gesture so soft it makes my chest ache. “Not where I can have

HARTER QUIET FOR ME 2

you to myself.”

+25 Partits!

“He kisses me slow and deep, like we have all the time in the world. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling

him closer, and he makes a sound low in his throat that vibrates through me.

“You taste like coffee,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’ve had approximately seven cups this morning.”

“It’s been a seven–cup morning.”

“Has it?” He lifts me onto the counter, stepping between my legs like he belongs there, and the new angle puts us eye to eye. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar. You’ve been hiding in your office while I deal with pillow emergencies.”

“I was strategically delegating.” His hands slide up my bare thighs, pushing my shirt – his shirt – higher, and his breath catches when he realizes. “No panties.”

“You said you liked me in your shirt with nothing underneath.”

“I did say that.” His voice drops, rough and hungry. “Fuck, I love being right.”

His fingers trail up my inner thigh, teasing, barely touching, and I squirm.

“Knox-”

“Shh.” His eyes are dark with mischief. “She might hear you.”

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