The Heir (The King Dynasty #1)

11. Morning Tempers

Chapter eleven

Morning Tempers

G od, she's so beautiful.

Every succulent, creamy soft inch. The feel of her in my arms is perfect, just as perfect as her hot cunt wrapped around my dick feels. Walking down the long hallway to our bedroom I observe Xavier is currently switching shifts with his night time replacement, and my head maid Marianne is standing on the other side of the door waiting patiently as I instructed, in case I need anything. Which I do.

I walk up to the heavy wooden double doors to our master bedroom, pinning Marianne with a stare. "Follow me please."

She pivots on her heel to pad behind me, being quiet as not to disturb Isobel.

I wasn't sure if she was the type to sleep while there was noise or not, but from the feel of how deeply she's passed out in my arms, I'm pretty sure Marianne could be vacuuming right next to her while there's an orchestra playing and she wouldn't twitch a muscle.

We walk through the double doors, and as I pass the bedroom, I see a gold, sheer nightgown laid out for Isobel.

It's pretty, but unnecessary.

"When you leave, put this up please. She doesn't need it," I say quietly, putting my nose to Isobel's hair and breathing deeply.

She smells like shae. Want to know how I know? I made it my business to watch YouTube videos on mixed ethnic hair. I even watched a Ted talk on how black women feel about their hair, which is how I know I'm not just going to be able to get away with sinking her in the tub without care.

No, I'm trying to live long enough to enjoy my marriage.

We make our way silently into the bathroom where I walk to Isobel's side where I had an extensive vanity put in. Her hair shit cost a grip, between straighteners, air wrap, rollers, creams, gels, curling irons, clips and clamps of all kinds. I spent a mini fortune on her comfort and convenience.

"Here, grab this," I eye the clip. "And put her hair up for me please."

I watch silently as Marianne puts her hair into an elaborate twist before clamping it up.

"You're dismissed. Please leave the snack tray on the table outside of the bedroom. I will come out and get it. Instruct all staff to remain outside until I say otherwise."

"Yes sir." Marianne gives me a nod before turning and leaving.

Now that we're alone I shuffle out of my clothes, which is difficult to manage but I wasn't even about to ask Marianne to help me because it would be just my luck that Isobel would wake up just then. And fuck if I ever want to make her feel insecure like I'd let another woman touch me, fuck me, when I'm all hers. No. That's never going to happen.

I pull my shirt away and drop it to the floor, turning to face the giant white freestanding tub. The water is tepid, and there's a tiny bit of steam coming off the top that holds the scent of eucalyptus. My favorite.

I carefully step into the water, wouldn't want to slip and drown us before we even get started. Taking my time soaking in the tub, I enjoy the intimacy between us, listening to the sound of the water as I squeeze it on her, bathing us both. Making sure to be gentle between her legs. The scream she let out when I first thrust in her was quite intense. My dick stirs between us, remembering her shocked look when she looked down and saw how big I was.

I lean my head back on the lip of the tub and take a deep breath. “Hey Alexa, call Gustavo."

He comes over the intercom. “Yes sir?"

“G, forward me the feed from the garage from tonight.”

“Coming right up, sir.”

Draining the tub, I work to wrap her in a towel, making my way to my bed and lay her down, covering her back up and taking her hair clip out. Her copper hair looks so beautiful against the cream colored pillows. I eye her sleeping peacefully and grab my phone, toweling off my hair, ignoring the sting in my scalp where she scratched me trying to rip my hair out.

Feisty witch.

I grab the snack tray and put it on my nightstand, not even bothering to wake Isobel up. I'm sure she wouldn't like that. Pulling up the security video Gustavo sent me, I lean back into the pillows against the headboard, tuck my arm behind my head and watch the events unfold that happened tonight.

I see myself jump out the way after she sends a crystal tumbler flying at my head, and the glass shatters in the vehicle next to me. I reach in grabbing her arm, and she grabs me back, planting her feet against the doorway on the inside of the car. I see myself back up a foot, making some headway with getting her out the vehicle, and I harden again, seeing the shadow of her pussy appear in the doorway as her knees bend all the way before she reaches quickly to snatch up my hair.

The absolute feral look on her face makes me shiver as we struggle against each other for several seconds before I push her in and climb in after her.

I fight back a chuckle as the limo rocks hard, and from memory I know it’s because I tackled her. The limo continues to rock as we fight against each other, and pretty soon the rocking turns violent and stays that way for almost an hour until I see her arm shoot out from the door.

A wicked smile tips my mouth at her trying and failing to reach for freedom.

Somewhere along the video I pulled out my dick and began pumping violently at the memory of her tight cunt squeezing me to death, but the sight of her hand reaching helplessly has the first hot spurt of come shooting out over my fingers. Then I see her fingers curl around the frame before disappearing as I snatch her back.

The memory of her telling me she would have fucked me, that she would date me does it, and I finish with a quiet groan. Glancing over at her, I run my clean hand down her cheek softly. I would have woke her up for round two if I thought it wouldn’t harm her cunt or piss her off.

I’m aggressive in bed, sure, but I'm not evil .

I clean up and settle back into bed right next to her, curling around her with my hand on her breast and an arm across her torso to grab her hip and I fall asleep for exactly six hours.

I’m awoken to her irate, yelling in the hallway. I pull on a pair of sweats and pad out to the hallway to see her swimming in one of my button up shirts and a pair of my dark gray briefs, laying into my security.

Fuck, can she really start up this early? I think. I lean an elbow on the doorframe, just watching her.

“I just want my keys and my phone so I can go. I’ve been here long enough!” Isobel glares at Gustavo who’s just staring at her in amusement. I clear my throat making my presence known. Isobel turns to me with a wild look in her eyes. “King, tell him! Tell him to give me my stuff! It’s eight in the morning!”

“Gustavo, give Isobel her things,” I say softly, seeing her melt a little.

"No sir," he answers.

Isobel's eyebrows raise as the craziest look of disbelief crosses her face.

"Why not, Gustavo?" I keep my eyes steady on hers as she pings between me and our security. It's almost comical.

Gustavo frowns. “Because I have orders not to, sir.”

Isobel swings back around to stare at him. “Orders from who?”

Gustavo cuts his eyes at me and arches a brow. “Mr. King, ma’am.”

Her jaw drops as she swings back to look at me. Her eyes narrow, and her nose scrunches as she suddenly rushes to me. “YOU!” she hisses, reaching for my face. I move quickly, snatching her up by her arm and she yelps as I yank her back into the room.

"Settle down, Izzy," I say. "I can't have you being this pissed this early in the morning. It just isn't good for the heart."

"Hendrix," she says breathlessly as I yank her past the bed, heading towards the other side of the bedroom where the connecting door to her room is. Despite how upset she is, pleasure trickles up my spine, because I absolutely love the way she says my name. "Hendrix! What. The. Fuck. Is going on?"

"What's going on is you belong to me." Turning, I snatch her hard against my side as she blanches and her knees buckle.

"King, stop!" Isobel shouts. Digging her feet in she makes herself dead weight, causing me to turn around and bend my knees, throwing her over my shoulder. "Put me down!"

Opening the door, I walk though it then bend again setting her on her feet where she sways for a moment as she attempts to get her bearings. I watch her carefully, seeing the change come over her face. To say it's beautiful is an understatement. Her brows go from being furrowed tightly together to a little looser as her eyes widen.

The tense set of her lips slacken, and her chin tucks in slightly as she pauses, trying to figure it out.

I've placed her in the adjoining room to mine, a room that is entirely her own until she is comfortable with me. The bedroom I painstakingly designed with all the little bits of knowledge about her that I've collected. I've methodically filled it up with every knick-knack and odd and end that she's touched throughout the last nine months.

"I painted it myself," I say quietly, not wanting to break the spell she's seemingly under. This is the quietest I've seen her, aside from the brief sleep we just got.

Looking around the room I try to take it in the way she might.

I had the side wall facing the grounds put in with twelve feet tall-floor to ceiling windows with billowy cream curtains that drag on the floor. I painted it a grey-blue color, almost the same shade she picked for the picture we drew together weeks ago when we met up at her favorite lunch place.

"I gave you a queen sized bed, because I don't want there to be so much space between us if I'm in here with you," I explain.

Her eyes flit to mine for a second before averting once more, not acknowledging me. I'll allow her the space she needs, and time to think. To process.

Her gaze lands on the bed and stays there.

If she decides to let me in I want to be as close to her as possible. It's plump with a blue feather down comforter, expensive sheets in the same color to match the fireplace, and silk pillowcases for her hair. I personally think it's more comfortable than mine, to be honest.

On either side of the bed are two huge terracotta pots housing fiddle leaf trees that curve to the ceiling and are combined in an arch over the bed. I had to beg Madre for these. As an interior designer, I just knew it would add a touch of ambiance to the space that she'd enjoy.

I hope she'll enjoy, anyways.

I've decided that while our first time was on my terms, I want the second time between us to be her choice. I just hope I can control myself enough to be able to make that a possibility, more than a theory. She continues to walk around slowly, really taking everything in.

There's a little fireplace in the wall opposite the bed that is stone, matching the outside of the house. Her eyes raise and on top of the mantle, the only thing there so far is the napkin of the picture that we drew and colored together framed in a little glass case. She wrings her hands together as she turns to look over the room again.

Ragged breaths catch in her throat, causing arousal to rise up swiftly within me.

"Are you going to lock me in here?" She turns and pins me with a stare. The tears well up in her eyes, causing her irises to waver .

"No, this room is not for me to lock you in," I reply softly.

A tear slips down her cheek and I wish- I wish like hell I could hear her inner thoughts.

Her chin trembles as she turns to look at the wall where I had shelves placed with lighting, and she walks forward slowly to pick up a vase. When she saw this vase at a Harrods, and put it back, I saw pain and sacrifice plain as day on her face. I stood there that day wondering what her story was, because I had gleamed up until that point that she should be making enough money in order to buy it. It was only two thousand dollars. I remember being slightly confused as she walked through the store and didn't let herself have anything unnecessary.

"Hendrix, I don't understand," Isobel states quietly, running her fingers along the blue and white porcelain.

"I bought that for you because the pain that was in your eyes the day you denied buying this for yourself was just simply unacceptable." I walk up slowly behind her.

The sound of my footsteps fade momentarily as I make my way over the lush rug I'd bought her to go with her bed set. It's got swirls of green in it, to go with the fiddle leaf plants. She turns to face me with a gasp, clutching the vase so hard that her knuckles turn white.

"You were following me?" Her hazel eyes flicker between mine, searching, still confused.

Just like she didn't see Christopher was cheating on her, something inside of her isn't letting her acknowledge the truth.

"Yes."

"Everywhere?"

I swallow thickly. "When I could."

"And….and the suit you were wearing to the art show…. you knew. Didn't you?" Her eyes narrow as she takes a step towards me, clutching the vase as if it's a lifeline. "You knew the color dress I was going to wear so you lined your jacket and matched your tie to match me. Why would you do that when you knew I thought I was supposed to be getting engaged?"

Her chest heaves with emotion and surprisingly, the color just keeps getting deeper and deeper in her face.

"Yes. I knew." Emotion swells in me so abruptly that I take a step back, uncomfortable with it's intensity. Not able to look at her, I fold my arms, pacing to the fireplace to inspect the drawing we did together. My most treasured possession. "I did it because there was no way in hell I was going to let you get engaged to that man, baby."

"Stop calling me that!" Isobel yells, drawing my gaze back to hers. She takes a couple of bold steps towards me, her eyes flashing dangerously. "What is this room?" she hisses, looking around again. As she turns, the sunlight shifts through the window and slants across her face, highlighting her hazel eyes. She turns her eyes to mine again. "What are you playing at? Hendrix, you're- you're really scaring me!"

Her lips tremble and I break, striding forward to go to her. I need to hold her. Convince her somehow that she's going to be okay. "There's nothing to be scared of Izzy-"

"Oh my fucking God-" Isobel moans, putting a hand to her head. "This can't be happening to me. Are you really fucking keeping me here? Are you serious?" Her face pales, making the freckles on her nose stand out. Concerned, I reach over to snatch a waste basket, thinking she's going to be sick. "For what?" she gasps, barely getting the words out.

"Because-" I begin, but I can't get a word in as she's quickly interrupting me.

"For sex? Because you want to fuck me?"

Dropping the waste basket to the floor I reach for her, my eyes narrowing as she backs away so fast she knocks her head on the shelf behind her. I stop about five feet shy of her, seeing she's freaking out. "Baby, give me the vase before you break it, or hurt yourself-"

"Answer the fucking question!" she screeches, clutching at the vase so hard it's nestled deep in her breasts. Just then, a weight winds it's way around my ankles, drawing both of our gazes down to the beautiful white feline who is rubbing against my legs. Her jaw drops.

"You even got the cat I was looking at a few weeks ago?" she half whispers, her eyes flying to mine.

"Yeah," I shrug my shoulder sheepishly. "I wanted you to have your heart's desire." It's really that simple. I bend down to pet her soft fur and glance up at Isobel, hoping that by making myself smaller Isobel will calm down. "Her name is Sweetie."

Our gazes clash, and an eerie hush falls over the room. Sweetie goes over to Isobel and begins to roll all over her feet next. But Isobel looks thoroughly in shock.

Her eyes are wild, her hair is slightly rumpled and flowing over the sides of her face and shoulders. Even being swallowed up by my clothes she's adorable. I keep my eyes hard on hers, refusing to be distracted by her body. "Hendrix," she says in the most deathly quiet and serious tone I've ever heard come from her. "I asked you what am I here for?"

Tilting my head, I clear my throat and narrow my eyes, letting her know I mean business because this isn't a game, nor something I wish to be screaming over all morning.

"Because, Isobel, I'm going to make you my wife."

I swear I think the entire world draws to a stop at the look that comes over her face.

"Your wi-" Cutting off her words she takes a step back and rocks her body slightly away from me, looking me up and down as if she thinks I'm crazy.

Seeing I'm not bluffing, Isobel's brows raise before she turns swiftly, putting the vase back on it's shelf and then pivoting back around to walk to the bedroom door. When she gets close to me I shoot out my arm, slapping a hand against the fireplace and stopping her in her tracks. She makes a small sound in her throat as she draws to a sudden halt and just stands there, staring at my forearm.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask her quietly. "We're not done with our conversation."

We stand there in silence for a minute straight while we both wait each other out.

Her eyes are angry as she keeps her gaze pinned on my arm. "King, you cannot keep me here-"

"Isobel, it is already done-"

"Nothing is done. This is a sick fucking game and I am ready to leave-" Her voice raises slightly, causing me to raise mine as I speak over her. Pissed that she still refuses to look at me.

"And I told you last night that this is your home. You are where you belong, Isobel. We will be married-"

"Hendrix, you cannot force me to marry you! That is illegal. This is kidnapping-"

"This is the King Dynasty way!" I snarl down at her feeling my patience slip. Her eyes finally snap to mine, but I have no time to feel any sense of relief before I see they're filled with rage.

"Ohhhh, I see. The King Dynasty way, huh?" Her lips tighten as she backs up a couple steps. Her demeanor slowly changes into the one she had last night right before she fucked up her ex's apartment. "Well guess what Hendrix King, my ancestors heard the same thing when they were busy dealing with fucking slav-"

"You will not finish that sentence, Isobel!" Pushing off the fireplace I take a warning step forward, raising my hand and pointing at her, ignoring her hastily stepping back. "You have one more time to carelessly insinuate that I'm a racist!" I warn her in a rough tone, feeling my blood pressure skyrocket. "I am not! And it is highly insulting!"

I'm so goddamn over it.

My cock hurts, my patience is thin, and I'm fighting everything in me to not throw her on her bed and have my way with her.

"Or what, King? Huh?" she snaps, holding her arms out to the side and flashing me a defiant look. "What the hell are you gunna do about it? You're already holding me against my will! Are you going to hit me next? Huh?" Her eyes narrow. "I'll kill you in your sleep before I ever let you get away with putting your hands on me in violence."

"Oh but you'll let me fuck you, right sweetheart?" I lick my lips, letting my eyes roam down her body, seeing her nipples harden. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't enjoy, want, or love what happened between us last night."

She shifts her eyes away, putting an arm across her torso and biting her lip. Though she's vulnerable, she did love it, just like I did. I take my in and attempt to maneuver around her emotions, softening my stance as well as my voice, letting her know I'm not a threat to her.

"I'll fuck you like that every night if you want, however long you can stand it. I'll give you whatever you want, baby. Whatever your heart desires."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I want to leave."

My brow raises. "Except that, obviously."

Her eyes flit back to mine before narrowing. "You can't make someone marry you." And with that she moves fast, stomping past me, exiting her room and into our bedroom where she enters the hallway and banks a left to the stairs.

Following her, I keep a respectful distance and try not to stay too close. I don't want Izzy to feel unduly threatened, or hounded.

She'll learn.

Isobel flies down the stairs and then heads to the front door where she proceeds to try and open it, grunting in frustration when the handle stays unmoving. Xavier appears out of nowhere while she's tugging and yanking at the door.

She continues on, making these grunting noises that's doing much to enflame my desire even further. Right when she turns, grabbing a vase off a side table to throw it at a window, Xavier snatches her arm and twists it behind her back, causing her to cry out.

I tilt my head, making sure he's not hurting her.

Before bringing her here I gave my team strict instructions how to handle Isobel, including what is absolutely not acceptable for them to do regarding restraining her. And they know what will happen if they go against my rules. I don't care what the circumstances are. I was so serious that I wrote them a new contract outlining my expectations and made them sign it.

Seeing she's struggling against him, I walk up to her slowly.

"Turn her to me, Xavier." As he complies, I pin her with a look as she brings furious eyes to mine. "You are welcome to explore and touch whatever you want." I put my hand against her cheek and caress her gently before clutching her jaw and squeezing, causing her cheeks to bunch up and her lips to plump together. Looking deep in her eyes I speak in a clipped tone. "But you won't do here what you did to Christopher's apartment. Conduct yourself better. You are not allowed to fuck up our house, Isobel."

"This is not my house," she shouts. Irate, her eyes stare back at me and I feel that fire that draws me to her begin to burn me.

"Ughhh…" I grit out and hunch forward on a growl as a sickening sharp pain explodes across my groin, clutching my dick with one hand as she kicks out her foot and nails me straight in the nut sack.

Thankfully, Xavier felt it coming, because he'd pulled her back enough for her to not maim me, but she got me good enough for me to break out into a hot sweat.

Meeting her eyes, I straighten and breathe hard through my nose, letting out a little groan. "Ohhhh you little twat. I can't wait to pay you back for that." I roll my neck, willing the nausea down. "Xavier, see Ms. Brookes to her bedroom, send her breakfast up to her and stay in there with her so she doesn't break anything or hurt herself."

Isobel pales. "You just said that room wasn't for me to be locked into!" Her eyes go wide as she looks at me in a panic. "King!"

Ignoring her, I turn my back and make my way down the hallway. "Things change right quick when you start kicking me in the balls," I call out, still cradling my dick in my hand. Fuck.

"King, no!"

I leave her yelling after me while I go to my zen room, promising myself an extra hour to help calm myself down. As much as I didn't want to lock her up anywhere, she gave me no choice. She's too hot headed for her own good, and as much as a turn on that her feisty attitude is, she's going to have to learn to understand that there are things she's not going to be able to get away with.

And unfortunately this is her first lesson.

I walk into my massive gym with a custom floating bamboo floor and start the music, setting a playlist that will have me going for about two hours. There's nothing like some good tai chi to re-center the soul. I need it after the way she screamed as I was walking away from her.

It's killing me, because she was supposed to be screaming a different way this morning.

As I move smoothly through my routine, I begin to contemplate how to tame this vixen of mine. But until then, I focus on extending my patience and taming my own temper, contemplating on how to make this woman fall in love with me.

Because I don't want to be the only one in love.

That's something I won't tolerate

I'm hanging from the bars above me, giving my back and arms a much needed stretch after two hours of constant movement when my gym bluetooth signals a call from Donna, Isobel's mother. I let go and hit the bamboo floor with a thump, picking up a towel and instructing the system to answer.

"Donna," I greet her with a nice slow drawl. "How nice to hear from-"

"WHAT THE HELL DOES PABLO MEAN YOU HAVE MY DAUGHTER AND Y'ALL ARE GETTING MARRIED?"

My eyebrow arches. Well, clearly by her tone I majorly fucked up and should have told her myself.

"Now Donna-"

"Don't you dare 'Donna' me. I knew there was something up with the way you looked at Isobel when we were on that trail! I told Melody that you weren't just a friend. Now I get a phone call from Gwendolyn-"

"Who?"

"CHRISTOPHER'S MOTHER!" Donna screeches, and the sound echoes throughout the gym. I walk over to the tablet attached to the wall and turned the volume down slightly. "And Hendrix-"

"Yes, Ma'am?" I stand there and fold my arms, giving her every bit of attention as if she'd been standing right in the room with me.

"I don't know if you know this, but I hate that woman!"

My eyebrow arches, not expecting her to say that. "Well, I'm sorry to hear-"

"And to have to sit here and listen to her bitch at me about how her son has five broken ribs, a broken tibula, a fractured collarbone and a dislocated shoulder due to some 'man' that Isobel was with the night of the art show- "

"Again, I am sorry-" Not really, to be honest.

"Oh you have a lot to apologize for." She breaths hard through the speaker, and for a second I am a little apologetic that I didn't include her, but I can't chance it until the deed is done.

I pause. "We're just taking some down time to get to know each other." She's too silent, and I hurry to try to help right the situation. "It's not what you think-"

"Don't be so arrogant, Hendrix," Donna snaps. "You don't know what I think."

"Well, what do you believe happened then?"

"I think you're forcing my daughter to marry you somehow, that's what I think-"

"And you'd be correct-"

But Donna is talking a mile a minute, her speech is so rapid that she's not even pausing to breathe much less hear that I've validated her.

"-She'd never ever do something this brash on her own. I know my baby. She was with Christopher for two years and didn't give a damn he'd hadn't proposed in that ennnttiiirreee time, and you want me to believe that she just agreed to up and marry you after one freaking day?"

"Ms. Brookes, will you please give me a minute to talk?" I ask sternly.

"No! Tell me what's going on!"

Ironic.

I clench my jaw and take a deep breath, thanking God I just spent two hours calming myself down.

"It wasn't one day . Your daughter and I have known each other for over nine months now," I say in a matter of fact tone. "This business with her father and the mafia requires for her name to be changed and for her to have the protection of a powerful family behind her. My name isn't just for decoration, Donna. She will at least have a fighting chance-way more than she ever did with Christopher. Furthermore, I am in love with your daughter, and have been since the moment I met her so yes, I took complete advantage of your ex-husband's situation, and the fact her ex-boyfriend was cheating on her and took the one chance I had to snatch her up and make her mine. And I make no apologies for that whatsoever because I'm a man who goes after what he wants, no questions asked or excuses tolerated."

We both sit on the line, breathing hard. But I don't back down.

I meant every word.

"I want to talk to her!"

My patience is up. "Your daughter is safe, Ms. Brookes. I just ask that you give us a few weeks alone, with no interference to settle into our marriage. I don't want you trying to talk her out of it, or scare her for any reason. I am truly sorry that you are upset, but I would like for you to have a good day, Ms. Brookes. If you need something, have Pablo contact Gustavo."

"Hendrix, are you insane? You cannot keep me from Isobel-"

With a click I hang up on her through the tablet and then exit the gym room.

No one will be allowed to come between us. Not her family, nor mine. No, we're about to become an impenetrable island for a bit. Until I can get a better grip on this little she devil of mine.

Until I am assured that she can behave herself and won't run from me.