Bow Down To Your King

Chapter 19

JULIA POV

Point Total: 1,350

What a load of crap.

"But no matter how many people are around me, I guess," dramatic ass pause, "I'm lonely."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Who did he think he was dealing with?

Obviously not a competent human being. An amoeba could see through his shallow, practiced response.

But lucky for him, I wasn't there to give him pointers. No, I was there to win.

And the least he expected me as competition, the better. And I know you're wondering why I'd say that the King, the man, "doesn't know me."

Because he doesn't, not in the slightest, but also, because it flustered him, threw him off his game, and left me in the driver's seat.

It was fun.

It was strategic.

It gave me some kind of sick pleasure.

I placed my hand on his, eager to keep up appearances. "I'm sorry," that you're a royal dimwit, "Thank you for trusting me."

He nodded, still faking that deep, emotional look in his eyes; his green, mischievous eyes that liked to wander up my thighs when he thought I wasn't paying attention.

"What's your answer?"

Fuck.

What would innocent, sweet little Julia say?

"One time, when I was in elementary school, I stole a bottle of nail polish off of my teacher's desk."

Zeke laughed, "Did you get in trouble?"

"Nope," I said, running my thumb over the back of his hand, "I got away with it."

"So you're a rebel?"

"Sometimes."

He chuckled, "I like that about you."

"Yeah?" I asked, letting him lean in, "You like me?"

"I do," he said, moving his hand to my jaw, pulling me close, "More than you know."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he took the opportunity to kiss me—hard.

Unlike the first time, in the garden, he didn't hold back. His tongue slipped into my mouth before I could process that he had moved his other hand up my skirt, ever so slightly, pushing the fabric higher and higher.

Bold, I thought, allowing the intrusion, shutting my eyes, and surrendering to his touch.

Zeke moved forward, lowering us to the ground where a pile of pillows waited. He knew what he was doing, I glanced at the camera, propped up next to our heads, exactly where I left it.

I smiled.

"What's so funny?" Zeke asked, pulling away just to cover my neck in soft, suggestive kisses.

"You," I said, "You did all of this just to be alone with me when you could have just asked."

And saved us both a lot of time.

He moved his attention up my exposed skin, stopping at my ear. "Maybe I wanted to impress you."

He was lying. I knew that.

But something inside of me fluttered at his words.

I met his eyes, searching for remorse, hesitation, anything that proved he wouldn't go through with this.

Then I gave up on his soul, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and started another bout of breathless kissing, grinding on his leg, losing myself in the process.

Zeke moaned against me, pushing harder, forcing me to get off on him, literally.

Fuck.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging, making him feel my growing frustration, but that only encouraged him.

Soon, he was on top, grabbing my hips and dragging them below his.

He's so-

"Hard," I said gasping as he held me in place, thrusting against my clit. I whimpered unintentionally, surprised by the sensation and lack of protection my thin panties provided me.

If he looked down, he'd see the mess he created. Maybe he'd lick it up. The idea sent a wave of electricity through me. I dug my nails into his shoulder, not thinking about my innocence, the image that I had to keep up.

I wrapped my legs around him, directing his thrusts, using him to please myself. Just as I felt an orgasm creeping over me, seizing my body, Zeke stopped his planned attack.

"Julia," he said, letting his breath travel down my neck, "I'm not sure if this is a good ide-"

Oh, now you get a conscience?

"Why not?" I asked, struggling to level my voice. He did just ruin my only chance at cumming any time soon, after all.

"It's like you said," he confessed, placing a kiss on my cheek and meeting my gaze, "I don't know anything about you. And now we're-"

Dry humping?

"-messing around. I just think we should get to know each other more first."

Holy shit.

I frowned. My orgasm wasn't the only thing he was ruining.

Katie and I had a plan, a concrete, 'make him pay' plan and it relied on his sick obsession with fucking me.

If he didn't want to fuck me, everything else went to shit.

So I did what I had to do.

I pretended to cry.

I shut my eyes and turned away from him, glad that the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon, leaving us in darkness. He wouldn't be able to make out the fake tears running down my face. No, all he knew was that I was sad, trying to be strong in the wake of rejection.

"It's not because of you," he said, frozen, probably panicking, "You're amazing and hot and-"

"Not your type?"

"You are my type." Gullible? "Believe me, I want to, well, I want you. But we shouldn't."

"Shouldn't or can't?" I asked, wounded, vulnerable.

Zeke stared at me, trying to read the expression on my face. It was the perfect distraction.

I kissed him, dragging him down to me, and then before he could adjust, I rolled on top. I trapped him between my legs, resuming what he started, moving against his hard cock. But before I could continue, he grabbed my hips, stopping me.

I thought he'd push me off, but instead, he laughed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, biting his bottom lip just enough to earn another moan, "I want you too."