Page 99 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“Oh, no,” he says, giving me a bloody grin. “No apologies for what you’ve done now. It’s on. We’re doing this.”
Jasper surges forward and I raise my arms in defense, but it’s useless. He shoves aside my paltry attempt and grabs me by the throat. He steps into my space and pulls me up to his bloody face.
“You can’t possibly think I’ll give you a kiss like this,” I say, struggling against his hold.
“Were you thinking about giving me a kiss?” he asks.
I growl and thrash in his hold. It only gets me deeper under his control. He whirls me around somehow and then we’re falling. Before I faceplant into the ground, Jasper catches us, holding us both up with one arm. Slowly, he lowers us down until I’m pinned beneath him in the dewy grass.
“What about now?” he asks, the hand on my throat both soft and demanding. Something about the way he touches me makes my body come alive in ways it never has.
I hate it.
I throw my elbow back but barely hit him. He flattens me against the ground, preventing all movement. The pressure of his body feels both terrifying and wonderful. I thrash and writhe, but it gets me nowhere. A frustrated cry escapes my lips as I give one last attempt at bucking him off, but I fail.
He chuckles against my ear. “So fiery. I love it.”
Love. He uses that word a lot with me.
Does he mean it?
Ugh, I don’t care.
I keep thrashing despite my dwindling strength.
“When you’re stuck like this,” he finally says, breaking our tension, “reach your hand around and grab their groin. Squeeze until they let go.”
“What if it’s a girl?” I say pushing and wiggling until my hand is between us.
“You have a sensitive little pearl. Yourclit.” His words burn a path down my spine. “Pinch that as hard as you can.”
I wiggle again and get my hand between us until I’m cupping his full, hard length. “And then what?”
“Squeeze,” he says seductively.
I clamp my fist around his cock and he groans.
“Harder.”
So I do. I tighten my fist until I fear I might break something.
“Harder,” he growls. “You want to hurt them.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you,” I say.
“You don’t?”
There’s an electrifying tension between us for a heartbeat, and then he draws away all at once.
“Sparring is over. Let’s work on your magic.”
I roll over and look at him. “Are you sure?”
He looks down at me with pained desire, wiping blood from his upper lip. “Yes.”
I huff. “Fine. How did you even learn to fight like that, anyway?”
He covers his nose with his palm and opal magic corrects the damage I did. “On the streets.”
