Page 46 of The Arrogant's Redemption

I’m certain she has no idea how stunning she is or how watching her dance, her hips swaying slowly and sensually to the beat, is driving me insane.

"You don’t dance?" she teases, laughing, arms raised above her head.

Alexis steals my oxygen. She looks so perfect and free! So different from the tense, cautious young woman she usually is.

Thank God I know she hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol—otherwise I’d worry she’s only let go because of the booze. But I know better. Maybe this is her true nature, once free from all the worries.

Instead of answering her challenge, I walk straight to her and reach out my hand. I don’t allow any distance between us, pulling her into me, satisfying the craving to feel her.

Like she’s done it her whole life, Alexis wraps her arms around my shoulders, face tilted up toward mine.

I kiss her ear, and her nails dig into my skin. I nibble, and she moans loud enough to be heard over the music.

I grip her jaw and run my other hand down her back, not stopping when I reach her ass, grabbing the firm flesh with the same urgency that drives my mouth to hers.

Alexis bites my bottom lip, and the heat that explodes in my veins is pure, unfiltered hunger. The uncontrollable need to have her drowns out any rational thought.

I lift one of her thighs to my hip and slide my hand to the inside, my fingers grazing her panties. Not silk or lace but cotton—and that just turns me on more.

I’ve been to bed with princesses and socialites around the world, and here I am, on the brink of madness for the blonde wearing cotton underwear.

The music continues to fill the space, and to my surprise, Alexis—despite our kiss and my hands all over her—moves to the rhythm, making the experience even more unique and provocative.

Her full breasts press against my torso, creating delicious friction, our bodies syncing perfectly.

My kiss isn’t just lips meeting. It’s passionate and punishing—a kind of penalty for her being this damn irresistible.

Our tongues tangle, fighting for dominance, each trying to tame the other in a sensual battle. I feel her giving in. She knows she’s surrendering—but she still hasn’t completely submitted. That only drives me wilder.

I devour her mouth until I have her full surrender, and when Alexis melts in my arms and moans a soft "please," my blood boils.

It would be easy to scoop her up and carry her to bed. My whole body demands it. But in some twisted mix of masochism and decency, I decide I won’t seduce her unless I’m sure it’s what she wants.

"I propose a game," I say, pulling our mouths apart and stepping back.

"A game?" Even in the dim light, I can see her eyes dark with lust.

I nod. "A game of questions. I want to know more about you, and you don’t seem willing to give that up easily. So, for every question you refuse to answer, you remove a piece of clothing."

Her beautiful eyes widen—but then one corner of her mouth lifts. "Does it go both ways?"

I shrug in response. "Fine. I accept—as long as I get to be questioned first." I lean against the DJ table, arms crossed over my chest. "I’m waiting."

She twirls on the dance floor but then walks to the sound system and turns the music way down. "Tell me about your family."

"That’s not a question. That’s several."

"Okay. Do you have siblings?"

"I have two younger siblings. A brother and a sister. My turn. Where’s your mother? You mention her but always in a distant way."

Her face tightens; she reaches up and removes her earrings.

"That’s a cheap shot," I say.

"I amwearingearrings," she says, smiling again. "Technically, anything on my body counts as clothing. My turn. Have you ever been married?"

"Never."

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