Chapter 435-I Challenge His Roughness In Bed

Verity:

"Well, you’ll catch a cold," Ragnar finally replied, stubbornly refusing to look directly at me.

"Listen, Ragnar, and I mean this with all due fucking respect. Whatever happened between us last night shouldn’t be taken seriously. You shouldn’t assume that gives you the right to worry about my health or act like you need to take care of me. I can look after myself."

I deliberately threw his own words back at him, only in a much harsher and meaner way than he’d used them on me.

His gaze immediately snapped toward me, and I watched his jaw tighten.

"And if you’re doing this because you think I’m cheating on your brothers, then let me make something clear. I’m not. I’m not involved with any of them right now, and after seeing how you behave, I’m not even sure your brothers would be any different from you. I really don’t like cheaters."

Well, apparently, that was where he drew the line.

Or perhaps I’d finally crossed one, because he suddenly let out an irritated grunt.

"I’m not a cheater," he snapped, pointing at himself.

"I didn’t call you one. I simply meant that if your brothers are anything like you, I don’t want anything to do with them," I muttered, lifting my shoulders in a dismissive shrug.

I started to walk away, but Ragnar immediately stretched out his arm to stop me.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I knew my words had hurt him.

In fact, I understood perfectly well how hurtful they were.

And that was exactly the fucking point.

I wanted to hurt his feelings.

"I asked you a question, and you’re not walking away without answering me. What’s wrong with me, huh? What exactly do you mean by someone like me?" Ragnar demanded.

I stared at him for a moment before pushing his hand down and attempting to walk past him.

Now that he was behind me, I couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious, knowing he could probably see my ass jiggling with every step.

And considering how sheer the lower half of my dress had become after getting soaked, I was pretty sure everyone else could see it too.

The realization sent an embarrassed flush creeping into my cheeks.

"I asked you something," I heard Ragnar complain as he followed me.

I quickened my pace, almost rushing away from him.

The problem was, I hadn’t thought this through.

All I’d wanted was to bother him, and judging by his reaction, I’d certainly succeeded.

He was clearly pissed off, which should have been satisfying enough.

But what the hell was I supposed to do now?

I genuinely had no idea.

So I did the only thing that came to mind.

I started running.

By the time I reached the stairs leading up to my hut, I could hear him approaching.

I hurried up the steps, but just as I reached my door, I glanced back and saw him taking the stairs two at a time.

I immediately rushed inside and slammed my bedroom door shut.

Pressing both palms against it, I stood there with my heart pounding wildly and my chest rising and falling as I struggled to catch my breath.

"Okay. I’m in my room. I’m safe. That asshole can’t bother me anymore, huh?" I muttered to myself.

I slowly backed away from the door, keeping my eyes fixed on it as I folded my arms across my chest.

Until my back suddenly collided with something.

I froze.

Then I slowly turned around.

And there he was.

Ragnar stood inside my bedroom, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I’m an asshole?" he questioned.

I swallowed hard and immediately stepped backward.

That was when I realized he’d entered through the other door connecting my room to the shared living area.

"Well, leave. I’m about to undress," I warned him, desperately trying to sound confident despite the way I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

"You’ll have to answer me first. What did you mean by someone like me? What’s wrong with me?" he demanded again.

Why the hell was he so determined to know?

Everyone knew Ragnar didn’t give a fuck about anyone’s opinion. He was the Alpha King, for God’s sake.

So why did mine suddenly matter so much?

"Ragnar, I’m warning you. You need to leave because I’m about to change," I insisted, pointing toward the door.

He stared at me in silence for a moment before slowly nodding.

Then he turned around.

I finally released the breath I’d been holding, assuming he was going to leave.

But instead, the bastard walked straight toward the sofa beside my bed and sat down, spreading his arms across the backrest.

"Fine. Change," he challenged.

My breath caught in my throat.

The room was dimly lit, with only a lantern glowing in the corner.

And there he sat, his shirt hanging almost completely open, with just one poor button still fighting for its life.

He crossed one leg over the other and stretched his arms along the back of the sofa, looking entirely too comfortable, almost as though he were waiting for me to put on a fucking show.

"Well, I’m not changing until you leave," I protested.

"Good. Then let’s talk."

His eyes had widened with an intensity that made me wonder what the hell had gotten into him.

"Well, fine. Let’s talk," I snapped.

I marched over and perched myself on the glass coffee table directly in front of him.

Ragnar slowly withdrew his arms from the backrest, curling his hands into fists and planting them against the sofa cushions as he leaned forward.

"One," I began, raising my index finger. "You’re rude. Two, you’re flirting with other women while you’re engaged. Three, you’re inconsiderate of other people’s feelings. And four, you don’t have a heart."

I paused by pointing directly at his chest.

"And five, I bet you’re a softie in bed, too."

I immediately zipped my lips shut, realizing what I’d just blurted out.

But the moment my fingertip made contact with his bare skin, I swallowed hard.

Oh, fuck!

I should not have done that.