Page 48 of I Am Lioness

“Knox.” I heard her say suddenly.

“Hmmm.” I hummed, sipping from the tumbler in my hand.

“You're looking especially handsome this evening.”

I dropped my gaze to hers, regarding her curiously. “Really, now?”

She nodded and brought her lips beside my ear. “Fine as hell to be exact.”

Her heavy-lidded stare did not go unnoticed. Neither did the way she caught her lip between her teeth. Swallowing down the rush of desire that overwhelmed me from the molten look swirling in her eyes, I tipped her chin up and planted a soft kiss to her lips.

“Thank you, beautiful. I’ll have you know I'm proud to say I'm here with the most stunning woman in this room.”

“You flatter me.” She grinned against my mouth.

“If by flattery you mean the absolute truth, then yes, I flatter the hell out of you.”

“I wish you’d flatter the hell out of me another way.”

Yeah, I was not expecting her to say that. The air crackled between us as she held my stare, steadily awaiting my response. When it didn’t come, she eased back and leisurely slid a finger along my jaw, stopping at the very end of my chin.

“How much longer are you gonna make me beg for it, Knox?”

I had to stifle the groan that threatened, trying my damnedest to appear unaffected when in fact all I wanted to do was pull her into my lap and devour her whole.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist her, especially when we were sleeping in the same bed and things had escalated on more than one occasion. If she kept this up, I wasn't sure how much longer my self-control could outweigh desire.

“I don’t know…” I murmured into her ear. “I like it when you beg.”

“I'm not above it, baby. If it'll get me what I want then I’ll beg you all. Night. Long.”

Jesus Christ.

A lazy smile stretched across her lips as she sidled impossibly closer to my side. “Please?” She asked sweetly.

Death-gripping the glass, I took another tentative sip of my whiskey to mask the gulp I swallowed down. From the corner of my eye, I watched her smile widen in satisfaction. She knew she had me.

I was so fucked.

“Please?” She asked again, walking her fingers over the buttons of my shirt.

I caught her wrist between two fingers. “You're playing with fire, Hazel.”

She chuckled quietly. “I don't just wanna play with it. I want to roll around in it, burn in it, suffocate in it.”

“When you say shit like that it makes it very hard to resist you.” I growled, feeling myself unravel.

Pulling herself free from my grasp, she brought a finger to her chin, tapping it pensively. “What was that you've said to me on more than one occasion? Oh, that's right,” she leaned forward, “don't resist me.”

I drained my glass of its remaining contents and all but tossed it onto the coffee table before us, threading one hand into her hair to hold her in place.

Our eyes collided.

“If I take you back to that room, I'm not stopping this time.” I said by way of warning.

“I have absolutely no intention of stopping you.” She smirked, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

With Brass House sitting just a couple of blocks away from the hotel, Hazel and I were walking into The W ten minutes later, her hand trapped in mine as we headed straight for the elevators.

---