Page 62 of Sweet Obsession
She met my gaze like she wanted to burn in it. “Educate me, then. How else do you prove to someone their existence is a burden to you?”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink.
“But you were raised by a cartel,” I said coldly. “You knew this life. You knew you’d be traded like gold. You knew love had no place here.”
“Right.”
The word sliced quieter than a scream. I let out a short, bitter laugh. No humor. No mercy.
I moved around her slowly, deliberately, stalking.
She turned as I circled, refusing to give me her back. Stubborn to the last breath. The sweater slipped off one shoulder.
Soft skin. Exposed.
A canvas I wanted to claim. To ruin. But there was steel beneath that beauty. That’s what twisted me up.
She wasn’t just something to break. She’d break me right back.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I growled.
“Actually,” she said, lifting her chin, “I interrupted you on purpose.”
Her voice held that sharp edge again, danger in sugar.
“Testing my patience?”
“Perhaps.” A casual shrug. “Maybe I wanted to see what the devil looks like when no one’s watching.”
I smirked, low and feral.
“You won’t like what you find.”
“I’m not here to like anything.”
The air between us snapped. Tight and magnetic.
She was so close I could taste the vanilla smoke of her skin. “Do you know what kind of deals get made in this room?” I murmured. “What kind of blood stains this floor?”
“I’m not naive,” she said evenly. “My father makes blood deals every week.”
She had no idea. Or maybe she did. Maybe that’s what made her walk into the wolf’s den barefoot and unafraid.
My fingers brushed her wrist. Light. Barely a graze. But it was enough. She inhaled sharply.
I pressed one hand to the table beside her hip, trapping her between the wood and my body.
I didn’t touch her. But I could’ve. I would’ve.
“You should be afraid of me, malyshka,” I said, voice low as the grave.
Her throat worked around a swallow. The firelight painted her in gold and sin.
“You haven’t seen what I become when the leash breaks.
I looked at her mouth. Too soft. Too pink. Too damn close.
I leaned in, close enough for my breath to trail along the shell of her ear. “You crashed my meeting,” I whispered darkly. Let her feel the weight of that sin.
