Page 41 of Satanic Shadow
He walks into the middle of the room and sits, elbows on his knees, waiting. “Can you risk failing, mortal?”
I gulp, bite my lip, then rub my arm. “No. I guess not.”
He hums, a deep sound from his chest. It travels across the room and settles right between my legs. “Then…” He wets his lips. “Come here.”
12
For the longest moment, I stare at the Prince of Darkness, contemplating, thinking, and debating what could possibly go wrong. A part of me is gravitating to him, to the man sitting on the chair, legs parted, elbows resting on them as he watches me. The other part is screaming for me to throw the door open and launch myself out of this room and far away from him.
He doesn’t actually want to do this.
But as the thought comes over me, I stop fiddling my fingers behind my back and push a step forward. “I have a few things to cover first.”
Dane hums so deep I feel it between my legs. “Go on.”
“Do you still want to kill me?”
He thinks for a second, pushing his tongue against his inner cheek. “Yes. If anything, I want to kill you more.”
I huff. “I’m being serious, Dane. I won’t kiss someone who plans to put a stake through my heart.”
He tilts his head. “You are a mortal, not a vampire. Or did that somehow slip your mind? I could kill you without lifting a finger.”
Glaring at him does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t falter. I’m about as scary as a puppy.
“You’re all talk,” I say boldly. Stupidly. Just to add to the growing frustration in his deep eyes, I keep going. “If you were going to end my life, you would have done it already.” I tip my chin. “You’re bluffing.”
His eyes darken a fraction. “What makes you think I’m bluffing?”
“Actions speak louder than words,” I respond, crossing my arms. He’s still on the chair, looking handsome and laid-back and annoying. “You aren’t going to kill me.”
“We shall see, mortal.” His brows raise as he saysmortal, and I want to slap his face. “What else?”
I gulp, unsure if the feeling washing over me is the intensity of his hooded gaze or the image of him being the last person I see before meeting my end. Maybe both. “This is for an assignment.”
“Obviously.”
“We do this once, for the assignment.”
“Five times,” he replies, a slight smirk touching his lips. “You said we need to do it five times, a minute each time. For theassignmentof course, as you keep mentioning.”
Instead of humoring him, I tense my jaw, flip my hair behind me, and look out the window above his head. “I don’t know how it works in your realm, but in mine, consent is important. I won’t kiss you without you being okay with it. For this entire assignment, consent will be discussed. If you don’t want to do something, I’ll refuse to go ahead with each task. If I’m not comfortable, you will stop. Failure or not.”
I zone my gaze to him as Dane leans back in the chair, the wood creaking. “Do actions not speak louder than words?”
Is he talking about the time we shared a bed and he dry-fucked me? Held me until we fell asleep? The image of him sliding his cock against my panties has me flushing bright red.
He clears his throat, and the internal clip of him grabbing my thigh, lifting it to get a better angle, vanishes.
“No. Words, Dane. Verbal consent or nothing. A person’s body can betray them in the worst of ways, so we’ll use words.”
I can’t believe I’m even talking about this with him. The first time he ever looked at me, I thought I’d die on the spot. Now, here I am talking to him about consenting to a kiss.
If I’m dreaming, or stuck in a nightmare, I’d like to wake up now. I nip my hand, and I don’t wake up in my bedroom. I’m still here.
Dane looks at me like I’m a lunatic. “Very well. If it makes it easier for you to sleep at night, I consent to you walking over here and leaning down to kiss me for this assignment. Good enough?”
“Is there a reason why you’re sitting?”
