Page 55 of Scattered Glitter

That challenge in her tone tells me she wants to prove something to herself or maybe even to me. But she’s not ready. She doesn’t know how deep this will go, how exposed she’ll be.

Because we didn’t tell her.

Fuck.

“The reason hypnosis works is because I set up a pre-frame, something that primes your mind to be more receptive,” I explain before I can overthink what we’re doing.

Levi is still watching, amused but focused. He knows what I’m doing—testing her, pushing her boundaries—so he keeps quiet for once.

Her walls are up, but I’ve seen them crack.

I want to see it again.

It’s a sick kind of fascination.

“When you know it’s coming, you should be able to brace yourself, hold against it. But if I know how to bypass your defenses, it’s only a matter of time till I’m back in your head.”

Her lashes lower, and I catch a slight narrowing of her eyes—a defensive move. “Is that so?” she challenges, her voice a little tight, as if she’s trying to convince herself she’s got this.

It’s so easy to rile her up, to dare her into things. It’s almost cute.

Her lips press together, and for a moment, I notice how perfectly shaped they are, even when they form that stubborn line.

“You’re welcome to try and stop me.” I shrug. “In fact, I want you to. Put up your best walls. Let’s see if you can keep me out.”

She tightens her grip on her arms, those long lashes fluttering as she narrows her eyes again in determination. Those subtle movements, the micro-expressions she can’t hide, betray her more than she realizes.

“Go ahead,” she mutters, daring me. “Do your worst.”

A flicker of vulnerability.

Then uncertainty.

My fingers brush against her wrist, and her pulse hammers under my touch. It quickens, and I pause. Her freckles, barely noticeable, are scattered like stars across her nose.

Fuck, get a grip, Koen.

“This is the pre-framing,” I murmur, forcing myself back on topic. “Part shock, part making sure you’re letting me touch you willingly.”

I tug at her wrist, my other hand tapping her forehead with just the right amount of pressure. She shudders, then her body begins to melt, already giving in.

“Sleep.”

And just like that, her body relaxes against me. No resistance at all, even though I told her to try keeping me out. She’slettingme in, whether she realizes it or not. And God, the way she gives in so completely makes my cock twitch in my jeans.

She has no idea what it does to me to have her body soft against mine. It’s the way her defenses crumble, the way she trusts me subconsciously, that makes me want to take her apart.

I can’t do that, can I?

She’s a means to an end.

Her head dips, leaving her forehead resting against my shoulder, and I catch the faintest scent of her, something warm and sweet like pastries.

“You’re listening to me, but you can’t speak,” I murmur, the words slipping easily between us.

It takes fucking strength not to reach up and pet her hair.

I lean in a little closer, close enough to whisper in her ear. “Until I say the wordpigeon, you’ll only be able to whistle like a bird. No talking. Just whistling.”

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