Page 63 of Warlord's Plaything

Because she’s under my skin, wrapped around my heart like a vice.

I have to remind myself why I haven’t already taken her again.

"You should be thanking me."

She goes still.

"For what?"she breathes, voice low, furious.

"For keeping you alive."

Her laughter is sharp, cruel."Keeping me alive? You mean keeping me in your fucking bed?"

I smile against her skin."You didn’t seem to mind last night."

She stiffens.

And fuck—there it is.

The thing she doesn’t want to admit.

That she liked it.

That she wants more.

Even if it’s killing her.

"I hate you."

Her whisper is so fucking quiet.

But I hear it.

I fucking feel it.

I believe her.

It doesn’t fucking matter.

I still want her anyway.

I let her go.

Slow. Deliberate.

Like it’s my choice, not hers.

She doesn’t move.

Doesn’t run.

Just stands there, breathing hard, hands shaking at her sides.

Like she’s realizing something too late.

Like she knows she’s already lost.

Not just to me.

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