Page 95 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

"Mason!" I bark, my voice reverberating off the walls, a visceral snarl slipping through clenched teeth.

"Coach, come on!" He pouts, gesturing toward Josie as if she were a prize to be won, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

"Now!" I snap, gripping the clipboard in my hand so tight I feel like it is going to snap. My heart races, the primal urge to stake my claim overwhelming. "Or you’ll be doing suicides until you vomit."

Mason’s eyes flashed with irritation, but my glare hardened his resolve. He opens his mouth to protest but catches my deadly stare, the muscles in his jaw tightening. After a moment of hesitation, he exhales sharply, turning on his heel. His massive frame stomping away, the ice echoing under his heavy boots as if the rink itself were protesting his retreat.

As he disappears around the corner, I feel the tension in my shoulders ease slightly, but my focus remains fixed on Josie, who is staring at me with a knowing grin on her face.

"You're a real charmer, do you know that?"

I ignore her question, calmly crossing the ice in my boots. "Why aren't you in your skates?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't have time. Someone dragged me out of Econ."

"You have a pair in your locker." I narrow my eyes on her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Am I allowed to go to my locker to get my skates, oh, benevolent one?" She rolls her eyes, matching my body language as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Stop with the back talk Josie, before you piss me off."

She scoffs, skipping down the stadium steps with a tempting look of challenge on her face. "Or what?"

My feet come to an abrupt halt, just inches from the glass barrier that separates us.

She stands three steps above me, the dim light casting a soft glow on her face. Her eyes narrow, piercing through the air between us, a mix of challenge and intrigue. A wicked grin spreads across my lips, the heat of my desire igniting a possessive fire within me.

I lean closer, my heart pounding in my chest, feeling the electricity crackle in the air. With a twisted smile, I revel in the intoxicating thrill of the chase. She will soon realize that she belongs to me. There’s no turning back now; I need to test the waters to see how far I can push her.

“Or my handprint will be permanently printed on your ass," I growl, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

She pales, and for a second, I think she is going to run. I can practically see the thoughts racing through her mind as she considers running from me. But I won't let that happen. I can already feel my grip tightening on her, dragging her back to me, kicking and fucking screaming.

What the hell am I going to do with an unwilling obsession? She has to be mine. I mean, there is no way around it—she is either mine or no one’s. But just as I am about to run to the opening and grab her, her cheeks flush in that sexy, rosy pink, and she slides the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth.

"Excuse me?" She gasps, placing both hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side.

"You heard me, Josie. Pick one: get your skates or get my hand across that tight little ass of yours." My voice is deadly calm, a stark contrast to the steady increase of my heart banging against my chest. I walk closer to the opening of the rink and into the stands.

Josie doesn't move, but her eyes are trained on my body as I place both hands on the rink’s opening, gripping the walls so tight my knuckles burn, but it's the only thing I can do not to touch her.

"You’re not supposed to talk to your students like this."

"You're not officially my student," I grunt, my head hanging between my shoulders as I look up at her with hooded eyes. "Remember?"

She shifts her weight on her feet, that fucking lip sliding between her teeth again. My blood boils at the sight of her teeth nibbling at her full pink bottom lip, a habit she probably doesn't evenrealize she has. Shaking my head to clear it, I force myself to focus.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" She rolls her eyes and adds that to the list of things I need to punish her for.

"Biting your fucking lip."

"Or what?" She narrows her eyes, purposely biting her lips harder.

"Or I will bite it for you," I growl, snapping my head.

She meets my gaze with a defiant glint in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she descends the steps towards me. "Then you better make it hurt," she says.

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