Page 38 of Devil's Tulip

I use his distraction to guide him to the table. He follows without resistance.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I heated up a little of everything in the freezer. They’re all my favorites, and I have excellent taste, so I’m confident you’ll like them too.” I urge him to sit with a gentle push, then slide a plate towards him. As I round the table to take my own seat across from him, I move with an easy sway, making sure he catches every movement.

Minutes pass in charged silence as he stares at me, like I’m some sort of world wonder he’s just seeing for the first time. The heat in the room becomes suffocating, my cheeks burning under his intense scrutiny.

What is he thinking? Is he onto my tricks?

To break the tension, I lean forward to pick up the fork in front of him and gather some lasagna onto it. His unwavering attention makes my nipples—still sensitive from his touch earlier—tighten almost painfully as I lift the food to his mouth.

He grabs my wrist, and my heart slams into my throat. But his voice is soft when he asks, “What the hell are you doing, dove?”

“You need to eat.” I try to sound confident, but my voice comes out weak and my wrist trembles slightly under his grip. Not because I’m scared of him, no. But because for some reason, I’m getting worked up.

I shift on my chair, trying to distract myself from my dampening panties.

He narrows his gaze on me. “You’re playing with fire, Gianna, and if you’re not careful, you’re going to get burned.” His words are cold, but his eyes—they’re like the fiery pits of hell. And I want to get burned by that fire.Badly.

He takes the fork from me and starts eating through the food I set on the table for him, one plate after another. But I don’t let up. Through it all, I try to move seductively across from him. Taking my hair out of the ponytail in that sexy, cinematic way I’ve seen women do in the movies, tilting my neck this way and that to highlight the curve of my skin.

The pendant of my mom’s necklace sways gently from my wrist as I shift, catching the light.

Outwardly, he remains stoic, focused on the food, but I notice the slight darkening of his eyes, the subtle drop of his lashes as they hood over his gaze.I’m getting to him.

Power surges through my veins, making me lightheaded at the thought that I can seduce this strong, powerful man—reduce him to putty—just with a little skin and a few teasing touches. I’ve never been more aware of my own feminine wiles, and damn, it feelsgood.

I trail my fingertips down my neck, stopping at the first button of the shirt. Michael’s eyes become dangerous slits, and I can almost read the dare in them. He thinks I won’t do it.

I smirk.Watch me.

I flick the first button open. Then the second.

Michael grabs a glass of water and gulps it—just as I undo the third, exposing the swell of my breasts. He chokes mid-swallow, immediately dropping the glass as he dissolves into a coughing fit.

I jump up from my chair, startled. Holy shit, I didn’t mean to actually kill him. That would be a hell of a mood killer.

I rush around the table, ready to slap his back. “It’s okay, you’re–” My words die in my throat when he suddenly grabs meby the waist and yanks me into his lap—right onto the thick, unrelenting length of his cock.

A sharp gasp rips from me, my eyes widening as my fingers clutch his shoulder for balance.The bastard tricked me.

And fuck me, my body loves it. More wetness leaks out of me, and my thighs press together on instinct. The way he maneuvered me so easily was so hot.

“Why are you surprised, dove?” His voice is a deep rasp, his breath warm against my cheek. “Isn’t this the result you were hoping to achieve?”

Heat rushes to my face. I squirm in his lap, dropping my forehead against his neck to hide my blush. “N–no. I was just trying to thank you for saving me by feeding you.”

“Little liar.” His palm wraps around my neck, tilting my face up so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. Those blue eyes—piercing, unwavering—holding me captive. “You wanted this.”

His other hand skims up my bare thigh, rough calluses leaving streaks of fire in their wake as his fingers climb higher and higher.

My lips part in a soft moan, head lolling back weightlessly, his grip on the back of my neck the only thing holding me up. He leans in, his hot breath fanning the top of my lip, teasing me, taunting me. I tilt towards him, aching for the drugging pleasure of his kiss, my body trembling with anticipation.

And then, just as his lips brush mine, my eyes slam shut, pulse thundering so loudly in my ears, it deafens me as he drags his tongue across my bottom lip, tasting me without truly kissing me. My lips part even wider, and he chuckles.The asshole.

“You’re so hungry for me.”

I would argue, but before I can, he moves. His lips trail from my cheek to my neck, and I whimper, adjusting myself in his lap—twisting in a way I didn’t realize I could until I’m straddlinghim, my needy cunt settling right over the wide tip of his cock through our clothes.

We groan at the same time as I grind down on him, my hips shifting, chasing friction. But his hold on my neck tightens, and the hand on my thigh flies up, fingers digging into my waist in an attempt to keep me still. His grip is so unyielding, so possessive, that the bite of pain only stokes the fire of my lust.

---