บททั้งหมดของ Dear Ex Husband, The Tyrant Rogue King Wants me! : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Katherine Harrington:The challenge in my voice hung in the air like smoke, thick and intoxicating. Luciano’s eyes—those dark, stormy depths—flared with a hunger so primal it sent a shiver racing down my spine. For one breathless second, he simply stared at me, his chest rising and falling with barely leashed control. Then, without a word, he moved.His large hand shot out, fingers threading roughly through my hair at the nape of my neck, yanking my head back just enough to expose my throat. His mouth crashed down on mine again, devouring, claiming, far more aggressive than my own bold kiss. His tongue invaded, stroking deep, tasting every inch of me as if he’d been starving for this exact moment. I moaned into him, the sound vibrating between our fused lips, my body arching instinctively against the hard wall of his chest.“Greedy little mate,” he growled against my mouth, the words rough and gravelly. “You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed.”Before I could retort, he bent low,

Tyrant Luciano Zarkov“You—” she bit down hard on her lower lip, the motion sharp, restrained, like she was trying to hold something inside that refused to stay contained.Then her eyes filled.Not slowly.Not gracefully.They flooded.Tears gathered so quickly it startled me in a way that battles, rebellions, and executions never had.I inhaled sharply, the sound rougher than I intended. “Why are you tearing up now?” I demanded, my hands moving before thought allowed them. My palms came up to her cheeks, firm, steadying her face so I could see her clearly.Her lips trembled beneath my hold, and that trembling unsettled me more than any blade ever pressed to my throat.“I—” Her voice broke. She swallowed hard, lashes clumping with wetness. “Why are you like this?”The question made no sense.“I am speaking,” I said flatly. “You are crying.”“That’s not what I mean,” she whispered, shaking her head slightly against my palms. “You talk like everything is a command. Like everything is… s

Katherine HarringtonThe ballroom was far larger than I had expected.Even before we crossed fully through the gilded double doors, light spilled over us in warm cascades from crystal chandeliers suspended high above like captive constellations. The marble beneath my heels gleamed so brightly I could almost see the reflection of my own black gown gliding over it. Music floated through the hall in elegant strings—soft enough not to interrupt conversation, yet persistent enough to make every movement feel choreographed. Perfume lingered thickly in the air: roses, amber, expensive wine, polished wood, candle wax.Everything glittered.Everything shone.Everything looked as though it belonged in one of those impossibly luxurious magazines women flipped through while waiting in salons.And somehow, absurdly, I was walking into the center of it on the arm of the most intimidating man I had ever met.My fingers tightened around Luciano’s sleeve.His military uniform was cool and immaculately

Tyrant Luciano ZarkovSebastian was smaller up close.Not physically.Physically he was acceptable enough—broad shoulders, expensive tailoring, the polished face of a man who had likely spent too much of his life being told he was desirable.No.Smaller in the ways that mattered.Men who shouted usually were.Men who approached my mate with entitlement while she visibly recoiled from them usually were.Most importantly—men who announced this is my wife as if ownership could be restored by volume were almost always catastrophically stupid.My hand remained firm at Katherine’s waist.Beneath my palm I could feel the slight tremor still moving through her.Pain.Memory strain.Discomfort.Her body had not settled since seeing him.That alone was enough to lower my patience to dangerous levels.Sebastian swallowed under my stare.“With respect, Your Majesty,” he repeated, attempting composure he clearly did not possess, “Katherine Harrington is legally married to me.”I considered him fo

Katherine HarringtonLuciano stared at me like I had suggested we set the estate on fire for fun.“You are enjoying this too much,” he repeated, voice low and flat, the same tone he’d used while reading Helen’s crimes aloud.I smiled, slow and shameless, still kneeling in the middle of his massive bed in my wine-red evening gown. The silk clung to my skin, tight across my breasts, the slit up one thigh already riding higher from how I’d shifted toward him.“Yes,” I said again, softer this time. “I am.”His gray eyes flicked down to where the gown had parted over my leg, then back up to my face. A muscle ticked in his jaw.“Sleep, Katherine.”The command was quiet. Final. The same voice he used when he expected the world to obey without question.I didn’t.Instead, I crawled forward on my knees until I was right in front of him, the mattress dipping under me. Close enough that my breasts nearly brushed his bare chest. Close enough to see the water still clinging to the hollow of his th