Page 39 of The Devil's Pawn

Floating.

Not doing a thing to climb out.

Is this what drowning is like? To fight for air? To fight for life? The way I’ve always been fighting. The way I’ll probably never stop.

Strong hands grip my waist, bringing my head up to the surface.

“What the hell are you doing, Raquel?” There’s fury laced in the cadence of his voice, worry carved over his face. “You trying to die? Because I’m not gonna fucking let you.”

“Oh!” I throw my hands in the air. “So you’re going to tell me what the hell I’m allowed to do now too?! You…” I poke him in the center of his chest. “Don’t get to do that. You hear me!”

His jaw twitches, his eyes narrowing as his Adam’s apple bobs, while his hands drop to his sides, forming clenched fists.

My heart races from my own anger, but also from the way he looks at me, like he’s not sure if he wants to give me a thorough spanking or throw me up against the wall and fuck me. Maybe all of the above.

How the hell am I still attracted to him, knowing he’s probably some kind of sicko?

Oh my God! I walked out of the shower naked today!

I know he’s seen me almost bare already, but that’s different. I had no idea I was being spied on!

I sneer, turning away from him in an attempt to get out of here, but before I can, his hand whips out, clutching the back of my neck, yanking me flush against him.

“Did I say you could go?” His lips hover over mine. “We weren’t done talking.”

My eyes turn to thin slits. His dark, heavy gaze breathes me in like a serpent assessing its prey as I push at him.

“Iwas done,” I hiss. “Let me go, you asshole. I have nothing else to say to you. Oh, and you can take your sorry ass to the couch tonight because there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping next to you.”

“I thought you were leaving.” His lips coil into a devilish smirk, his fingers delving deeper.

“I am. Tomorrow.”

He chuckles low. “Well, if you think I’m going anywhere except my bed, you have me mistaken for someone else, sweetheart.”

His inhales are sharp as his lips sweep past mine. My heart squeezes, taking my lungs with it. I fight the climbing whimper. My body is drunk on the feel of him. My toes curl within the water, and my nipples bead, craving his touch. My breaths grow shallow as his chest rubs over mine.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his gravelly tone lacing through my veins like poison.

My anger begins dissipating, like a candle flickering until it gives out.

“I think we need to start over, because I can’t stand you being mad at me.”

He rotates my body, dragging me to the edge of the pool by the back of my neck. His muscles press up behind me in the water, forcing me to curl over the hard surface with my cheek pressed onto the cold, damp stones.

“If you want me to stop watching you, I will,” he grunts against my neck, his lips flirting with my skin.

His other hand begins climbing up the outskirts of my thigh until his palm reaches my hip, a finger hooking under the thin strap of my black bikini bottom.

“I have cameras all over my property,” he explains. “It’s only a means of protection, baby. I never expected you to be here, in my bed, under my fingertips.”

His hand wanders down to my core, cupping me there, massaging, coaxing the orgasm he’s already set ablaze. I melt into him, forgetting why I was even mad in the first place.

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” I ask with a barely threaded whisper, arousal coating it. “I would’ve at least made sure you only saw my good side.”

A sexy, masculine chuckle falls from his mouth just as two fingers slip my bikini to the side, exposing me. “Every inch of you is your good side, sweetheart.”

I gasp as his fingers slice in between my lips below, rubbing my clit in small, torturous circles.

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