Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
He frowns, sets down the paintbrush, and that’s when I spring into motion, darting down the hall as fast as my jittery legs will carry me.
But footsteps chase me, accompanied by deep and harsh breaths. A large, warm hand clamps around my bicep and yanks me to a stop. I turn slowly, every tortuous beat of my heart sounding-off in my ears as I face the accusation in his brilliant stare.
“Did you get a good eyeful?”
“I-I didn’t mean—”
“Didn’t mean to spy on me?” he cuts in, invading my personal space. He’s not as tall as Liam, but his presence is overbearing enough. As I try to retreat, his fingers dig into my arm, making escape impossible.
“I wasn’t spying.”
“Does Liam know you’re down here?”
“Yes.” Though I’m sure the chancellor wouldn’t be happy to find us in our current position—his hand gripping my bicep as my bosom heaves against his chest.
The furrow between Sebastian’s brows deepens. “I’m surprised he let his little pet roam free.”
“He requested my presence in the library.”
“This wing is off-limits to you. It’s reserved for my public studio.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Well now you know.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Make sure it doesn’t.” He lets go of my arm, and I miss the warmth of his touch, which is crazy because he’s treated me with nothing but disdain every time we’ve crossed paths.
But I can’t deny I’m alive from the intensity in his gaze, the seriousness of his brow, the way he’s clenching those large hands. I imagine them gripping my thighs and flush even hotter.
What is wrong with me?
It’s not like me to become so tongue-tied in the company of a man.
But maybe that’s the problem—Sebastian isn’t some average guy standing in front of me. He’s one-hundred percent alpha with a legal and binding claim on my life.
He’s the kind of man who paints naked women for fun.
And in four months, he’ll have total dominion over my body.
A shudder tears through me, laden with arousal at the unwelcome thought. As if he senses my reaction to his nearness, he steps forward again, crowding my personal space. Inch by inch, he pushes me against the wall. My spine bumps against cold stone, and I gasp as something hard presses into my thigh.
Sebastian is sporting an erection, and though he was just painting an attractive nude woman not five minutes ago, I’m positive his hard-on is for me.
“You might as well make yourself useful since you interrupted my session,” he says, voice a sexy murmur as he sifts my blond locks through his fingers.
“What do you mean?”
“Provide me with a little inspiration.” His body is hard against mine, tempting my soft curves to mold to the contour of his muscles, the planes of his abs.
I stare at his lips. “I’m not taking my clothes off for you.”
“You could wear your hair instead. It’s amazing.”
The compliment is unexpected, and I stutter out a thank you.
“I’ve wanted to paint you from the moment I first saw you.”
I blink, and in that millimeter of a second, I imagine myself sprawled in front of him like the woman he left in the other room. No clothing, legs open to his gaze as he captures how he sees me on canvas with bold, sure strokes.
No exam bench or hostility.
No other men.
But would he see me as a girl or a woman? Something tells me he’d see me as the latter.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Would you spread your legs and let me paint your cunt, princess?” His eyes are alight with amused curiosity, but the vulgarity of his words spark the opposite in me.
“Let me go,” I demand, pushing against his chest.
The amusement fades from his expression, and he separates himself from me in the space of a second.
As if I burned him.
“Forgive me,” he says. “For a moment there, I thought your fully formed tits meant you’d grown out of the child queen I met six years ago.”
Indignation takes hold of me. The last thing I want is for him to see me as a child. “I’m eighteen now.”
“Like I said. A child.”
I resist the urge to stomp my feet and argue with him, as I’m sure that sort of behavior will only prove his point. “You’re insufferable. Why do you have to be such a jerk?”
With a sigh, he takes another step away from me. “It’s in my DNA, princess. You’re too innocent to see it for what it is.”
“I’ll kindly remind you I’m a queen.”
His lips twitch with renewed amusement. “No reminder needed. I’ve got plenty of pressure from my family to ensure a marriage to you.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I’ve accepted it.”
“Am I not what you expected?”
His gaze travels the length of my body, heating me all over again. “No, my queen. I expected a prim and proper child less appealing than a nun. What you are is innocence wrapped in the body of a porn star.”