Page 53 of Stroke of Shadows

He pressed forward, his hand moving to grip the back of her neck at the same time his lips pushed roughly against hers. There was no gentle caress or tender strokes, and she found she preferred it this way. Her fingers found their way into his hair, sinking beneath the thick, silky strands while her feet arched on tiptoes to better meet his embrace.

He devoured her. Consumed. Stole every single one of her breaths for himself. She’d never felt so real, so normal. As if she were a person and not simply a vessel for the Gods to strike their anger, or a pretty bauble for her uncle to parade around like a toy.

His kiss was exactly what she’d read about in the romance novels she’d snuck over the years, the feeling of wanting someone else. To be obsessed with his taste and the way his stubble scratched against her cheek. The way his breath hitched when she pressed herself closer, her body needing to feel him everywhere.

He pushed her into sensory overload, and for the first time ever, she felt like every other girl. One who wasn’t born with such responsibilities and secrets.

When he pulled back, she had to swallow her disappointment, even as regret instantly surged. “This was a mistake,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We can’t do it again.”

“You say this, but I bet if I slip my fingers between your legs, your body will tell me something different.”

A flush burned across her cheeks, her thighs wanting to press together to ease the growing pressure.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” he asked, his tone no longer a tease.

She made sure to meet his gaze, his irises seeming to shimmer as if metallic beneath the lights.

“You hurt people.” She didn’t need to ask a question when she knew the answer.

His forehead furrowed, his hand resting on her hip. “Sometimes.”

“And you enjoy it?”

His silence was all she needed.

“Let me go, Mr Black.” Unease twisted her stomach, the thought he was no different from her family sickening.

His lips pursed, his gaze intense, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped closer. Close enough she could feel every hard edge to his body through his t-shirt.

She has always been forbidden to love, but for that single moment she’d allowed herself to be swept away with the one man that made her feel something other than fear. She ached to feel something real, but even with his easy smiles and charm, he wasn’t real. Not for her.

“I don’t understand you,” she said, her hand itching to reach up and cup his jaw. To drag her nails through the dark stubble there.

His right brow arched.

“Is this all just a game? Do you laugh with your friends that you get the spoilt, privileged girl all hot and bothered?”

His head cocked. “So you admit I get you wet?”

Harper closed her eyes, fighting against the surge of hurt. “Of course, I’m just a joke to you. As if this could ever be real.” Fire burned in her gut, even as tears threatened. “You’ve made your point. You’ve won, congratulations. I appreciate you helping me tonight, Mr Black. However, I won’t be needing your services now, or in the future.”

His smile could make any woman fall to their knees. “Are you dismissing me, darling?”

“There’s nothing to dismiss.” Harper tilted her chin. “You’ve confirmed this was a mistake and won’t be repeated.”

Sythe sucked in air between his teeth. “You calling this a mistake?” He closed the final inch between them, pressing his hard length against her stomach.

“That’s… that’s just a natural reaction.” The heat that had made its home on her cheeks spread down her neck. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She thought he would push her further, a glint in his eyes like he was going to kiss her again. She wanted him to, even as she knew there could never be more. She’d already risked too much.

Desire carved expressive lines in his face, and when her lips parted, his own responded as if they were in sync. Anticipation thrummed between them, the tension growing until she swore it would snap.

Harper frowned, a shock of unease ruining the moment. Sythe’s eyes had changed, the caramel shifting to a metallic silver.

She reached for his face, both curious and startled. “Your eyes?”

Sythe blinked, his irises their usual caramel. “Come on,” he said, the connection between them broken. “Let’s get you home, darling.”