Page 49 of Wicked Knight

“Because I’m asking.” I stare up at him. “And because we should.”

“Should? Clearly, you really don’t know who you’re talking to.”

“I thought I did.”

He steps forward, right into my personal space, and glares at me, giving me a peek into his darkness. “No, Spider, you don’t know this version of me. But you will.”

The dark promise charges the air around us, making it feel heavier than it did moments ago. Suddenly, I feel foolish for thinking I could reason with him. He’s right again. I don’t know this version of him.

The scary Hades version that’s decided to hold me captive for making a foolish contract. I feel like I’m about to fall deeper into the underworld, and when he’s done with me, I won’t know what to do with myself.

Dmitri’s silent stare feels worse than his words, and his dark gaze seems to trace every inch of my body, not with lust—at least, not entirely—but with the kind of possessiveness that chills me to the bone.

“This isn’t a game you can walk away from, Mackenzie.” His sharp eyes pin mine, and I feel no different than a rabbit frozen before a wolf. “In this game, I make the rules, and you follow because you belong to me.”

The wordbelongscrapes against my soul. “I can’t belong to you.”

“You already do,” he murmurs, a wicked smirk curving his lips.

He pulls his jersey over his head, and I lose the ability to breathe.

Every inch of him is carved from raw strength, a masterpiece of muscle and sinew that shouldn’t belong to any mortal man.

My gaze traces the sharp cut of his abs with faint scars slashed across his torso, souvenirs of fights I’m certain he won.

Dark, intricate designs twist over his chest and creep down his ribs—ravens in flight, their wings spread as if about to take off, and beneath them, Viking runes.

When he stretches, his muscles shift like liquid steel, and I can’t help but stare, and stare and stare, caught between fascination and the heat that curls low in my stomach.

Dmitri tosses his jersey to the side and gives me a sinful grin. Then he kicks off his boots and walks closer to me.

“What are you doing?” My brain returns from wherever it went, realizing that my captor is up to something.

“Making use of the time we have.”

Before I can think of anything to say, he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Dmitri, what the hell are you doing?”

I get my answer when he heads toward the row of shower cubicles, and we walk into the nearest one.

He closes the glass door, turns on the shower, and I gasp as a burst of water shoots over us.

He sets me down before him, and the water sprays over me, soaking my hair and clothes and shoes. It drenches him, too, but all he has to worry about is his pants.

My mouth goes slack again as I watch the water running down his body, right down the fine dusting of his happy trail.

I’m stunned and shocked in equal parts at what we’re doing and that my ex-best friend turned into a super-hot Greek god with a body that Hollywood would plaster onto their silver screens.

Dmitri adjusts the flow to a slower setting so the water is sprinkling over us like a light rain.

“You’re crazy,” I mutter, shaking my head at him.

“Obviously, Spider.” An almost playful smile floats across his lips, tamping down the darkness that was previously there. Then he lowers his head and seals his mouth to mine, coaxing me into another forbidden kiss.

Opening my mouth, I allow his tongue to capture mine, and I instantly become intoxicated by that taste of menace and power.

It takes mere moments before my head is spinning and my body is melting into his. And damn it. I’m trapped again.

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