Page 37 of Vicious Knight

“You need to leave me alone. Even you can see how closely you’re bordering on stalking. It’s creepy as fuck and not a good look for anyone, least of all you. An Ivanov.”

The humor in his expression intensifies as if I just added to a running joke we’ve had going for years.

Thorne stares back at me for a few heartbeats while I wait with expectancy for an answer. Another stretch of time passes before he pushes away from the wall and my breath falters when he comes closer, taking slow, methodical steps.

I move back, pressing right into the wall as he invades my personal space, making it non-existent.

Using his body he presses into mine and I swear I can feel every hard muscle of his wide torso molded against me.

Leaning in, he brushes his nose against mine and inhales me, then he moves to my ear and lingers there. I’m numb with trepidation and a potent dose of apprehension that has my stomach fluttering with electric butterflies.

“I’ll bet you practiced that little speech every day since I last saw you.” The scruff of his jaw grazes my cheek and the heat of his breath tickles my skin.

“It doesn’t matter how much I practiced it. I mean it.” I try to shove him away but he grabs my hand and presses it against the wall, holding me captive. “Let me go, I’m sure your seven minutes are up.”

He laughs, cold and twisted. “Really, now? Did you seriously believe I was going to allow you to come to my party and only give me seven minutes?”

I struggle against his grasp. “Your party?”

“My party. You seem to forget who I am, little deer. Pretty much everything that happens on this campus is mine.” He presses his lips to my cheek, and a finger to my already-leaping pulse. “Nothing happens here unless I agree to it. So you’re certainly not going to give me seven minutes, and you won’t be seeing anyone else.”

“You’re insane. You need to leave me alone.”

“No.” He clutches my throat. His large hand wrapping around me is terrifying and I’m wildly aware of the fact that he could snap my neck if he wanted to.

Thorne moves closer so we’re eye to eye, and the demented expression on his face scares and excites me at the same time. That shouldn’t make sense, yet it does in my head and I hate it.

I hate it because it means I’m accepting that I’m attracted to him.

My nerves frazzle at the acknowledgement in my mind. Then my heart triple beats when he holds up my gold bracelet before me, showing he’s taken my favor.

“My lady.”

“You asshole.”

“Finally, you see who I am.”

Before I can comment his mouth crashes down on mine, stealing my senses as he pins my body and soul to his. Thorne captures my head and soul kisses me, leaving me numb and aroused in a way I can’t describe.

Nothing makes sense to me but his lips on mine and the important parts of my mind that should be working are frozen. Frozen like a fossil captured in amber, waiting to be discovered.

The kiss turns greedy and needy and desperate.

I lose my mind.

I lose myself.

I lose sight of every single warning my mother gave me and in those moments I don’t care about anything.

I don’t come back to earth until he lifts the hem of my dress and cups my sex through the lace of my panties.

Thorne presses his fingers into my clit and I gasp against his kiss. No one has ever touched me there before. The foreign sensation of his fingers fluttering over my mound makes my head spin and my breath go short.

He stops kissing me, just so he can look at me and smile at what suddenly feels like my defeat—me unraveling in his arms.

“You’re wet, malen'kiy olen'.” He calls me little deer in Russian sounding sexier for speaking the language I haven’t heard in far too long.

I’ve barely paid attention to the fact that he’s telling me I’m wet.

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