Page 45 of Crown of Hate

He doesn’t argue and simply drops the one he’s holding. As he reaches for the one in my hand, I pull back.

Time to play the game. Rule one of seduction: create an illusion of intimacy. Make him ache for my touch. If I’m to get him to fall for me, I need to create a sense of longing.

“I’ll help you,” I purr.

He narrows his eyes, searching my face. Is he on to me? Or just turned on? His face remains an impenetrable mask, giving nothing away except the deep lust in his eyes, and male pheromones rolling off him.

My pulse races as I drape the tie around his neck. I take my sweet time with each fold, fingertips grazing his skin in slow, deliberate motions. Teasing. Tempting.

His throat bobs, and his Adam’s apple dances beneath my touch.

God, even this small contact sets my nerves on fire.

“So, what are you doing today?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the tie, refusing to acknowledge the heat simmering in my stomach and the fire in my veins. The urge to rip his clothes off and ride him until we both combust is almost overwhelming.

Focus, Alya. Don’t lose control.

“I have some business to take care of,” he answers, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrates through me.

Shit. The baritone in his voice is so fucking sexy. It should be illegal. I’m losing focus, falling into his trap instead of the otherway around. I need to take back control. I need to regain control. “What type of business?”

“Mafia business. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He swallows hard. “Don’t stay up waiting for me.”

Translation: He might not come back at all. My carefully crafted smile melts away. The effort to keep my face neutral becomes almost painful.

“I won’t,” I lie, knowing full well I’ll be watching the clock all night while clinging to the faintest glimmer of hope that he will come back home.

I finish with the tie and step back. But immediately, his hand snakes around my waist, pulling me close once more. “Will you miss me?”

“No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a smug grin. He’s amused, and fuck, he’s hard. It’s impossible to ignore, with how the rock-hard evidence of his cock is pressing and throbbing insistently against my thighs.

My core aches in response, my every nerve ending suddenly, acutely attuned to his arousal. I wonder what would happen if I just gave in to this magnetic pull, if I crushed my lips against his and let the heat consume us both.

No, Alya. You can’t. Stay in control. Remember the plan.

I shrug, desperately trying to hide my own arousal. “Well, yes. A little.”

He chuckles, trailing his fingers down my spine. His warm breath brushes my ear as he whispers, “I like hearing that. It’s hot to know you'll be craving me while I’m gone.”

I can't help the little laugh that escapes me. “Don’t get cocky. I said a little...”

“You think you can resist me?” he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Definitely,” I retort, forcing confidence into my voice. But my act is paper-thin. Even I don’t believe my own lies anymore.

But his next move takes me by surprise. He leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s gentle yet charged with unspoken passion. My breath hitches, and my knees threaten to buckle. Every coherent thought evaporates, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on mine.

He pulls back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Still so sure about resisting??”

I shake my head, still trying to catch my breath. “No,” I manage to say, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks.

Damn him. Damn me. Damn this whole impossible situation.

He chuckles softly, reaching out to cup my face. “I promise, I'll be back as soon as I’m done. I won’t keep you waiting for long.”

I nod, feeling a tinge of disappointment. I want more than just a kiss and reassurance from him, but I’m not brave enough to take it yet. Or maybe I’m just not stupid enough.

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