Page 54 of Serpent King's Prisoner

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

No matter what, I couldn’t let him win.

“Half then,” he compromised, which surprised me. His gaze never left mine.

I took a tentative sip, the rich flavor of the wine coating my tongue but doing nothing to soothe the gnawing tension inside me. Placing the glass back down, I left it half full, my message clear—I wouldn’t be pushed further.

In an instant, the air shifted, charged with a dangerous energy. Nathan stepped closer, his movements deliberate, predatory even. I should have been afraid, should have been running, but instead, I was rooted to the spot, transfixed by the dark promise in his eyes.

“Take off your shirt, Abby,” he murmured.

I stilled, meeting his eyes. “Do you want me to drink or–”

“I want you to be a good girl and do as you’re told,” he growled. “Now…take off your shirt.”

My pussy throbbed at the tone of his voice, and bitterness and desire went to war in my chest as I put my cup down on the counter. I did as he said–reached for the hem of my shirt, pulled it over my head.

His eyes swept down to my breasts, drinking me in as I picked up my glass once again…and god, it turned me the fuck on, no matter how bad I wanted to resist him. I sucked in a breath, feeling exposed, vulnerable, but there was also a flicker of something else—anticipation.

“One more sip,” he said.

“Nathan–”

“Do it,” he said.

I nodded, trying to stop my hands from trembling.

“If you spill any wine,” he said, his voice a whisper of silk and steel, “I’m going to lick it off every inch of you.”

The threat hung in the air like a guillotine’s blade, sharp and ready to fall. And damn me, I wanted it to. I wanted the cut, the rush, the madness of it all. I lifted the glass once more, my hand surprisingly steady as I brought it to my lips. The wine flowed smoothly, not a single drop escaping.

“Good,” he murmured, his approval sending an entirely different kind of warmth spiraling through me.

“Are you always this bossy?” I teased with false bravado, trying to keep him off balance, to keep myself from sinking too deep into the darkness he offered.

“Yes,” he said flatly.

The cup made barely a sound as I set it down on the cool marble of the kitchen island. It was empty now, and so was any pretense of control I might have harbored. His presence loomed in front of me, a force that seemed to push against my back without even touching.

“Now your pants,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. Every part of me screamed to resist, to remember the badge that lay hidden, to recall the mission. But those thoughts were like whispers drowned out by the roar of my own heartbeat.

I wanted him…I wanted him so bad, and even though I knew it was wrong, there was no one here to judge.

I hesitated for only a second before I stood and my fingers moved with a mind of their own, sliding my shorts down and letting it fall down my legs. The cool air of the apartment kissed my skin, raising goosebumps, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off him.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his hand finding its way into my hair. I could feel the tension in his grip, the promise of pain entwined with pleasure. It was wrong, so wrong, but the thrill of it shattered my resolve like thin ice.

Nathan’s other hand explored the expanse of my exposed back before he took hold of me more firmly, guiding me down. My knees met the cold floor, and my hands steadied against the unforgiving surface of the island.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and I did. His eyes burned with an intensity that both scared and excited me. This was Nathan Zhou—calculating, dangerous, and standing before me with a need that matched my own.

I could see how hard he was, and fuck, I wanted him so very much.

“Abby,” he said, a single word laced with command and a dark promise, and I realized there was no more pretending. I wasn’t just undercover; I was under his power, even if only for this stolen moment.

His hand brushed against my cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle. “Take it out,” he said, his voice quiet but the command in it undeniable. I hesitated for a moment, but then complied, not breaking eye contact as I reached forward to tug on his waistband. My fingers slipped around the warmth of him, and my heartbeat quickened. He somehow seemed larger than he had before, and that scared me.

Thrilled me, too.

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