Page 25 of Lord of the Dark

"Then ask the right one."

My pulse roared. He was savoring this—making me wait until I either gave myself away or surrendered.

"Do you want me or not?"

His gaze traced my face, lingering on my mouth, my throat. He took his goddamn time before leaning in, slow and deliberate, until his face was mere inches from mine. His scent—woodsy, rich, edged with something dark—drove me utterly mad.

"I'll tell you what I want." His voice was rough, layered with raw dominance. He closed the distance until his lips brushed my ear. His breath was hot, even, as my body tensed, every fiber of me coiled to snap.

"I want you on your knees. Looking up at me while you take every fucking inch with your mouth. Because you're addicted to what only I can give you. I want you on all fours. Panting. Shaking. Because I fuck you so hard you forget how to breathe. And you still beg for more. Because you know no one takes you like I do." A deliberate pause. "But you won't get it until you beg. Not scream, not whine. Beg."

I felt his smirk against my skin—that arrogant, taunting grin that proved he knew exactly how close I was to forgetting every vow I'd ever made. Coherent thought was impossible.

And that was exactly why he pulled back, left me standing there dumbly with the fire he'd so effortlessly stoked. He reached for his glass, took a sip, utterly unruffled.

"But if you don't want it, Fiona... we'll just leave it."

I gritted my teeth. The heat his words had ignited burned viciously, but I'd be damned if I admitted it.

He waited. Motionless. But his mind was already steps ahead—his dark eyes seared into mine like live coals. I saw the hunger there, just as wild in him, even if he was restraining it with admirable control. He was playing me, forcing me to surrender, to lay bare my own greed for him.

My pride revolted. I straightened, drew a slow breath, squared my shoulders. "Fine. We'll leave it, then." A careless shrug, as if it suddenly meant nothing. Then I turned and walked away.

His gaze burned into my back like a threat, the tension thickening with every step I took.

Three steps. Four.

The sharp clink of a glass being slammed down followed.

Five steps—and with a rough grip on the nape of my neck, I was yanked back violently. A startled sound escaped me as I collided with the unyielding wall of his body. My breath hitched, every muscle tensing under the unexpected intensity of his touch. A triumphant smirk flickered across my lips. I had him. I’d forced him to make the first move, beaten him at his own game.

"You think you're clever, but you're not. Clever would be not provoking me."

My lips pressed together, my entire body trembling under the merciless strength of his hold. I’d challenged him, provoked him—and now I was trapped in the claws of the predator I’d awakened.I shoved against him, clawed at his grip, tried to wrench free—but he held me effortlessly. "Damn you," I gasped, digging my nails into the muscles of his forearm, feeling them tense under my touch. The pressure around my neck tightened further as his hot breath traced my skin like liquid fire. "What the hell is this?" I spat.

"You rubbed yourself against Delany like a whore on that dance floor," he snarled.

"I danced with the host," I hissed, still fighting his grip. But he moved with me, driving me forward relentlessly. "Meanwhile, you let that... bitch... paw at you." My stilettos sank slightly into the soft ground, each step a struggle for stability, for control I didn’t have. His grip on my waist held me firm, forcing me where he wanted—away from the guests, away from prying eyes, into the shadows. My pulse raced, a mix of rebellion and anticipation.

"One damn hot bitch," he taunted.

"Asshole," I seethed.

His hand seized my arm and threw me back with a rough jerk, slamming me against the cool stone wall at the rear of the pool house. A sharp pain shot through my back as I hit hard. My breath left me for a second as I tried to reorient, but he was already right in front of me. His hands planted on either side of my head against the cold rock, forming an impenetrable barrier that left no escape.

"You provoked me on purpose, you witch. Are you really stupid enough to think I’d let that slide?"

The first flicker of doubt gnawed at me. Had it been smart to challenge him like this? His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them—a bottomless abyss swallowing me whole, devoid of any warmth or mercy. They gleamed like liquid pitch, not a trace of humanity left. He leaned in just a fraction closer—

Then a sound shattered the tense silence between us. Footsteps, hurried and uncertain, approaching.

Delany appeared around the corner of the pool house. "Oh—sorry... didn’t mean to interrupt." He didn’t recognize us at first, amusement in his tone. But when he saw me, his smile froze. "Fiona? I’ve been looking everywhere for you..."

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My gaze was locked on Russo’s dark eyes, on the shadow lurking in them. He hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t acknowledged Delany.

Delany stepped closer, his voice noticeably skeptical now."Everything alright here?"

Russo barely reacted, just arched a brow—a silent cue for me to confirm the situation was normal.

---