Page 7 of Picture Perfect

If he's not careful, we'll suck him dry.

"What's the matter, Preston?" I taunt, my voice dripping with venom. "Can't control your girl?"

Preston clenches his fists, visibly struggling to maintain composure as his cocky facade slips. His grip on Addy's arm tightens, his knuckles turning white. She doesn't even flinch, that icy facade remaining firmly in place.

I'm almost impressed.

I take a step closer, my body swelling as I take in my prey. I can see a flicker of unease in his eyes. He knows deep down that he's playing with fire, and I intend to make sure he gets burned.

I think he'd look better all crisped up and broken.

Preston doesn't even realize he's unwittingly lit a match and thrown it at our feet. He'll pay for his arrogance, and I'll make sure every last ounce of satisfaction is mine.

With a slow, sinister grin, I reach out and gently cup Adelaide's face in my hand. My thumb glides over her plump, velvety lips, relishing in the softness and warmth against my skin. The dim light dances off the curves of her face, highlighting every delicate feature. Her breath hitches at my touch, and I can feel the electricity coursing between us.

I'm a moth to her flame. But flames are meant to be extinguished, not chased.

The silence in the room now feels heavy with anticipation, as if the air itself is waiting for the first move to be made. I gently slide my thumb between her parted lips, feeling the wet warmth of her tongue as it grazes my skin. It sends a jolt of pleasure through my body and a shiver down my spine. I struggle to suppress a moan, not wanting to give the little princess any more power.

The tension between us reaches a boiling point as Preston's face contorts with anger and fear, his grip on Addy's arm tightens even more as he tries to maintain control. But it's too late, for Preston has lit the match, and now he must face the flames.

I turn my attention to the sniveling little slug, pressing closer to his chest.

"We have unfinished business, Preston," I growl, my voice low and menacing. "And we don't appreciate being ignored."

Preston's eyes widen almost imperceptibly before that arrogant mask slips back in place. He knows all too well the trouble he's brought upon himself, and the dangerous game he's playing.

Preston's beady eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as I approach. Good—my presence puts him on edge. I live for that subtle scent of fear.

"This is a private conversation," he bites out. "So why don't you slither on back to whatever hole you crawled out of?"

I tilt my head, clucking my tongue in faux sympathy. "Poor Preston. A bit touchy this evening, aren't we?" My gaze slides to Adelaide, frosty and aloof as ever in her glittering gown. "I'd hate for this charming creature to endure your boorish company a moment longer."

Preston's stubby fingers tighten possessively on her arm. I imagine there will be bruises when he finally releases the poor girl. "Adelaide is none of your concern," he sneers. "Perhaps you should focus on more attainable prospects—like the pigs down at the Kelly farm."

His pathetic attempt at bravado almost makes me laugh. He’s out of his depth and he knows it. I can see the sheen of sweat on his doughy forehead, the rapid pulse in his neck. Fear thrills me, as does the spark of anticipation in the princess's arctic eyes.

"You should choose your battles more wisely, Preston," I murmur, turning my attention to the girl and ghosting a fingertip along her elegant collarbone. Her breath audibly catches. Such porcelain skin...I ache to see it painted with blossoming bruises of my own making.

Preston makes a strangled noise of protest. "Don't touch her, you freak," he spits, all pretense gone. "She's going to be my wife, not one of your playthings."

Wife. That word curdles the blood in my veins and I bare my teeth. Over my dead body. She wasn't meant for limp wrists and paunchy bellies—she needs steel to carve that icy heart from her chest and set her aflame. I sense a dormant wildness in her, locked away and screaming. I want to set it free. Saint was right.

I step closer, until only a hair's breadth separates Preston and I. "I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you," I whisper. “We’re not fucking done. Far from it.”

I wrap long fingers around the back of that slender neck of porcelain and drag the princess forward, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss laced with violence.

I catch her gasp on my tongue before plunging it deeper into her mouth, staking my claim and leaving my mark on her.

Before either can respond, I turn and vanish into the crowd, the taste of her lingering on my lips. The dice has been cast; the game is on. And I never lose.

Adelaide Winthrop will be mine.

??????

I can't suppress the predatory smirk playing on my lips as I weave my way back through the gowns and tuxedos, finding my boys exactly where I left them. The air crackles as I rejoin them. I know my eyes are gleaming with the satisfaction of the havoc I've sown.

I can't help it.

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