A frustrated scream bubbles up in my throat, but I trap it inside and flop under the water, letting it cover me whole. Not that it does anything to cool the flames he left behind.

Damn Jonathan King to the darkest pit of hell.

And because I want to strangle him — not in a sexy kind of way — I waltz to the dining room five minutes late.

The bath actually helped. My muscles are less sore, but they still ache and I feel him inside me with every step I take.

I’m dressed in my light pink sleeveless dress, my hair is loose, and I put on red lipstick. I need all my confidence today. And maybe I want to get on Jonathan’s nerves as much as he gets on mine. After all, he does stop and stare whenever I paint my lips red.

By the time I join Jonathan, he doesn’t appear in a good mood. He watches me with that furrowed expression that usually means disapproval.

“You’re five minutes late.”

“I had to get ready.”

“Excuses only make your case worse, not better, wild one.”

I lift a shoulder and pull my seat. Jonathan tuts and I sigh. Of course.

Making a detour, I go straight to him and sit on his lap. I hate how familiar — and dare I say, comfortable — this seat has become.

“Why do you always call me that?” I murmur in an effortless attempt to not focus on his presence at my back.

“What?”

“Wild one.”

“You’ve been wild since you were a child.”

“I was not.”

His lips twitch in that almost-smile of his, but he returns to a neutral expression soon after.

Jonathan grabs a small piece of bread and places it at my mouth. “Now, eat.”

I wrap my lips around it, but when they brush against his finger, a jolt of electricity blooms between us.

Our gazes bind and it’s like they can’t get unlocked. Jonathan’s dark grey eyes almost turn black as I keep my lips on his finger for a second too long.

Heat spreads beneath my clothes, forming goosebumps over my skin and ending straight between my thighs.

“Careful, Aurora. You’re tempting me to fuck you right here and now. After I punish you for those five minutes of tardiness, of course.” The raspiness of his voice and the words he says turn me into a bundle of inexplicable emotions.

I don’t remove my lips.

Shit. It’s like I’m opening my legs for him all over again. The fact that I’m still sore doesn’t even matter anymore.

Jonathan’s lips turn up into a seductive smile that worsens the state of my ruined knickers. “Is that an invitation, wild one?”

The piece of bread has melted in my mouth, and I swallow it, the sound loud and intrusive in the middle of the silence.

Before I can say anything, the door to the dining room barges open.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

 

 

24

 

 

Aurora

 

 

For a second, I’m too stunned to react.

I’m now used to having meals alone with Jonathan and his devious mind and wandering hands. Margot and Tom never interrupt us, which I assume is due to Jonathan’s orders.

So the moment I hear that familiar voice, I get caught into a denial game, thinking this is a play of my imagination. Or even that Harris decided to be an arsehole today.

But it’s neither Harris’s face nor his voice. It’s…

Aiden.

My nephew whom I’ve never officially met, despite begging Alicia to bring him over during her visits to Leeds. She said she would but had never kept that particular promise.

My nephew who called me ‘Mum’ upon first meeting me because he didn’t know I existed in the first place.

He walks inside, a hand shoved in his dark jeans pocket. His strides are purposeful and confident. Just like Jonathan. He’s also a carbon copy of his father, looks-wise. The dark hair and the grey eyes. The proud nose and the chiselled jaw. Even the permanent disapproving look is the same.

And it’s now directed on me.

That’s when I realise the compromising position Aiden has walked in on. I’m sitting on his father’s lap, lips wrapped around his damn finger.

I startle, trying to stand up, but Jonathan holds me tight by the hip. I beg him with wild eyes to let me go. He might be too assertive to care about what his son thinks, but I do. So much so that every second he holds me against him, I’m close to the point of hyperventilating.

He must see the panic on my features, and since Jonathan doesn’t really care about others, I suspect he’ll never let me go. But then, his fingers loosen from around my waist and I use the opportunity to get off his lap.

My breathing shortens as I smooth my dress and touch my hair in a shameful attempt to pull myself together.

This isn’t how I wanted to see Aiden again.

Besides, there’s a tiny part of me that didn’t actually want to meet him. Jonathan was right, the guilt I feel towards Aiden is too big to be translated into words.

I figured that since I moved here, I’d have to confront him eventually, but I never thought it would be under such circumstances.

If he didn’t hate me before, he sure as shit must now.

I should’ve asked Jonathan when he’d return from his honeymoon. Maybe I would’ve been more prepared if I had. Or at least not been sitting on his father’s lap, sucking on his fingers.

Aiden stops a seat away from his father, his lips set in a line, hot fury emanating off him in waves. “What, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck is going on here?”

I swallow. “It’s not —”

“Did I talk to you?” Aiden cuts me off, his attention still zeroed in on his father.

Fine. I deserve that. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.

Aiden is the last thing Alicia left behind. Aside from me, he’s the only one who shares DNA with her.

And despite looking like Jonathan, I can feel the touch Alicia left in him. That might sound creepy, though, so I don’t dare to voice that thought.

“I’m waiting, Jonathan.” Aiden plants his hand on the table, meeting his father’s gaze as if he’s a rival.

Jonathan’s expression remains neutral. The same blankness he wears so well doesn’t waver. It’s almost like his only son didn’t just walk in on him in a sexual position with his aunt.

This is so fucked up.

“I do not answer to you.” Jonathan takes a sip of his coffee ever so leisurely.

“You answer to your dick then? Is that it?”

My eyes widen, flying straight to Jonathan, kind of afraid about the wrath he’ll strike on his son. The older King continues sipping from his mug of coffee as if Aiden didn’t just say what he did. If he hadn’t spoken aloud, I’d suspect Jonathan didn’t even hear him.

“How dare you bring this whore to the place Alicia called home?”

I bite my tongue, but I can’t let this slide. I won’t. I may feel guilty towards Aiden, but I won’t allow him or anyone else to treat me this way.

Squaring my shoulders, I glare at him, but before I can say anything, Jonathan stands up abruptly, slamming both his hands on the table and meeting Aiden’s merciless gaze with one of his own.

However, Jonathan’s is more intense and the tic in his jaw enunciates it to a frightening level.