Page 60 of Warlord's Plaything

"Let me go,"I snap.

"No."

One word.

A fucking death sentence.

I lash out again, but it’s not just rage anymore.

It’s frustration. Heat. A battle neither of us want to end.

And he—he just fucking grins.

Like he’s enjoying this.

Like he likes the way I fight him.

He does.

He always has.

His mouth brushes against my ear.

Not a kiss.

A taunt. A warning. A promise.

"I could break you so easily, Hira."

My chest heaves.

"You keep saying that."My voice is hoarse, raw, filled with something I can’t fucking name."But I’m still standing."

He laughs.

Low. Dark. Dangerous.

"Not for long."

The room is too hot.

Too small.

Too filled with tension we both don’t want to delve into.

My nails dig into his skin.

His hands tighten around me. And the, just as suddenly, he lets me go.

Just like that.

One second I’m trapped between him and the wall.

The next, I’m stumbling forward, breathless, fucking furious.

I turn, ready to lunge again, ready to fucking tear into him, but he’s already walking away.

"You want me to fight?"My voice is shaking with rage."You want me to fucking submit?"

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