Page 35 of Darkness

“And your pants, technically.” I smirk.

“I can see that.”

“If you wanna get real honest…” I lower my voice to a whisper. “I’m also wearing your underwear.”

He clenches his eyes closed and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

I twiddle my fingers together nervously. “Sorry if I overstepped. I couldn’t be in that dress any longer—‍”

His eyes snap open with an intensity in them as they bore into me, effectively silencing me. “That shirt is only for the president to wear.”

I gulp a lump down my throat. “I figured, seeing as how I’m staying in here, no one but you is going to see me in it…”

“Take it off.”

Crap. He’s about to lose his shit. Out of anger? Or because he can’t hold himself back from me?

“I’m not putting that dress back on,” I state firmly, folding my arms over my chest.

Nycto storms over to his closet, yanks it open, and grabs some random shirt. It also has the Defiance logo on it but without the president patch. He shoves it toward me. “Change. Now.”

I huff, my heart hammering in my chest, but give in. “You need to turn around.”

His eyes wander up and down my body. “You’ve been bad, Eva. You don’t get to make demands.”

Tension flows through the room, a buzz filtering between us. My breath hitches at the thought of him seeing me wearing only my bra, and suddenly, I feel like a goddess. The way his eyes devour me already makes me feel like a queen.

I shouldn’t be encouraging him.

I should be demanding he turn around.

But if he’s going to play this game, I can play it just as well. “Fine.”

My eyes meet his, and I bite my bottom lip, the energy sizzling between us as his eyes follow my every move. My hands slide the shirt up over my stomach, his gaze lowering to admire my toned tummy as I hitch his shirt higher. He shifts a little to adjust his cock in his jeans, and I lift the shirt over my bra. Then I hoist it over my shoulders and off my head, pulling my long hair over one shoulder. His eyes don’t leave mine. They don’t so much as glance at my breasts, the way they rise and fall as I pant. He simply watches me watching him.

Nycto’s fingers clench so tight on the replacement shirt that his knuckles have turned white. I drop his president shirt to the bed and stand bare in front of him, in nothing but a bra and his sweatpants.

I thought I would feel stripped.

I thought I would feel ashamed.

But the way Nycto worships me with his eyes only makes me feel like I could do anything right now, and he would let me. The thing is, if he asked anything of me, I would probably let him too.

My skin prickles in goose bumps as energy swirls, sizzling around us. He’s not touching me in any way, yet it’s like his hands are all over me. This is the most intense standoff I’ve ever had with a man.

He slowly slides his arm up with the shirt in his hand toward me, and I take it from him.

“Put the shirt on, Eva.”

Nodding, I slowly pull the new shirt over my head, letting it fall over my body. It doesn’t feel as perfect as the first, but it’s nice. I smooth my hands over it, then my eyes shift back up to Nycto. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

He steps forward, reaching out for my hand. “You didn’t upset me. You shocked me. You look too good wearing my patch. That means something in my world, and I can’t have my brothers out there seeing you wearing it.”

I widen my eyes. “How would they see me wearing it?”

Nycto lets out a smile, more than his usual smirk, and the tension of the moment before ebbs slightly. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a set of handcuffs.

I step back. “Umm, what are they for?”