Page 19 of Deception

Her stare follows me as she remains curled on her side, her fisted hands coiled to her chest, ready to strike in defence.

“Why are you here, then?”

Why am I here…?

Because… I shrug silently, trying to find the answer to my question. An answer that won’t go against every ounce of my nature and our alliances. This girl is my enemy. She’s everything I hate. All that I despise and yearn to destroy. Yet, every second that we stare at each other, every cell of my being longs to be closer.

“Why are you here?” she repeats with a hitch to her breath when I step flush to the bed.

I can’t stay away.

Swallowing down the silent admission, I watch the way a balled hand flattens to her chest, her palm pressing into the supple flesh of her tits as her fingertips claw at the hollow of her throat. As though she’s trying to find something that’s missing. Perhaps something that will save her from me and all the things that I want to do to her. The ways I ache to mark her body and physically bend her to my will.

“What do you want?” Lucy whispers breathlessly.

“To play.”

“What?”

“We’re going to play a game.”

With an acerbic scoff, she rolls to face the other way, leaving her back exposed. My eyes climb down every rung of her spine, one by one until they disappear beneath the cotton of her nightdress. The burning itch to feel every dip and groove is as infuriating as it is overwhelming. The female body is something I’m more than familiar with, but with every uncharted inch of skin I see of her, I want more, as though it’s something wholly exotic.

“Get up!” Pulling back the cover in one swift motion, I grasp her arm and yank her to her feet.

“This is a fucking game!” Red stiffens, and I freeze at her statement.

Motherfucker.The little snake has been holding out on me. All this time, she’s spoken to me in nothing but English. She’s heard me talk to the men and staff as though she would be none the wiser to my orders. Here she is screaming at me in Russian as though it’s her mother tongue. It should anger me, but it makes me wonder what else she’s hiding, what other secrets she keeps from me, and it makes me want to unearth them all.

Tugging her with me, I guide her through the dark hallways, not stopping even when she stumbles on the old, uneven floors or the edges of the rugs.

“Why won’t you just kill me?” she snaps again. This time, she doesn’t freeze when I pause in front of the tall window overlooking the lake.

The moon casts a pale glow over one side of her face, making the freckles peppered across her cheeks and nose seem darker. Her eyes sparkle like the still surface of the ocean, even while her spirit is wild and dangerous beneath it. She’s a riptide. Imperceptibly dangerous until you get caught in her pull, and the only way to escape is to remain impervious to her guiles.

“You win and I will release you,” I tell her, nodding to the vast grounds.

“I’m not playing another fucking game.”

Grasping her jaw, I push my fingers into her mouth, curling them so that when she bites down, her teeth sink into my knuckles. Pulling her closer, I lean over her so that our noses are almost touching.

“I hate it when pretty girls have ugly tongues.” I don’t know why I say it because the curses sound so good when they roll off her tongue. Too good.

Just like her teeth sinking into my flesh and her hands clawing at my chest. Her fight makes me hard and hungry. I want to bite back, to marl all that lustrous skin with my teeth and hands.

“I win and you submit to me. You will kiss my feet on your hands and knees, and you will call me master.” Twisting my hand, I jack her mouth open to get a good look at her pink tongue.

When I remove it, she pulls back. The contempt in her eyes is so bright that it makes my pulse thrum harder and faster.

“You understand?”

“I’m not playing your game,” she spits at me.

“I didn’t give you a choice. I gave you an order.”

Tracing the loose neckline of the nightdress, I take in the shadowed curves beneath the white cotton. My focus zeroes in on her protruding nipples, the way her breath trembles with the rise of her chest, an obvious reaction to the friction of the fabric on her skin.

The urge to touch is too strong to resist. Before she can react, I grasp a full tit in my hand. Tugging her closer, I pinch and roll a turgid peak between my thumb and finger. The skitter of her breath permeates through my shirt as she tries to pry herself away from me. Fiery lust sparks through me, rushing down to my dick with the friction of our bodies.

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