Page 291 of Midnights
Jesus.
I clench my jaw, and my thighs. Damn him.
I tuck my phone away, determined to find him and end this stupid game before my body reacts anymore than it already has. I'm buzzing, lighting up like a freaking Christmas tree. I glance out the window just to make sure a storm isn't rolling in—because the last thing I need is for my magic to start acting up over here.
But before I take another step, there’s another buzz, and I curse under my breath.
Kane: I think… you want me to drag you into the shadows. My hands in your hair, my mouth on your throat, my fingers pumping…
I slap a hand over my mouth as a strangled noise breaks from my throat.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Another wave of heat tears through me, and this time it's sharp and unforgiving. It's just a text. I shouldn't be this far gone. And I absolutely shouldn't consider ducking into one of these goddamn alcoves just to get myself under control.
Kane: What’s wrong, Princess? Can’t handle the thought of me between your thighs?
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my pulse to calm the fuck down. I hate him. I fucking hate him right now. My body doesn’t ever seem to be on the same page when it comes to him.
“You’re so fucking lucky I don’t have a knife on me right now.”
His response is instant.
Kane: Am I?
Kane: Or will you finally admit how badly you want me when you’re on your knees, blade in hand, waiting for my permission to use it?
My breath stills. Is he for real?? “Permission? Please.”
Motherfucker.
Kane: Or maybe you’d rather I use it on you. I'd have you trembling and dripping, so desperate to be filled you’d beg for it.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kane. Are we still talking about the knife?”
A hot, pulsing ache settles between my legs, and I don’t know if I should be horrified by that. I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth so hard my head throbs.
I can feel the warmth spreading up my arms, and it’s all I can do just to breathe, hoping that will stop it from spreading any further.
Kane: No, Princess. I’m talking about you.
Kane: Your legs, shaking while I drag the blade over your skin, teasing you…
Kane: … you know what I think? I think you like it a little rough…
A violent shudder rips through me and I have to stop walking. My thighs squeeze until they hurt, my nipples are hard, and my clit is throbbing. My body's begging for friction.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m desperate for any type of control, but there isn’t any. Not when it comes to him. Not when his words seep into my skin like a toxin, spreading through my veins, unraveling me from the inside out.
I take a slow, steadying breath and push deeper into the back corner of the library. Maybe if I stick to the shadows he can’t see me. I know he has to be close if he can see my reactions. It means he’s watching me, and I’m not even going to acknowledge the thrill that seems to go through me knowing that.
My eyes follow the stairs that go up to the loft and there he is. The smug looking bastard is just standing there, leaning against the railing.
His eyes lock onto mine and his lips curl into that goddamn smirk that makes me want to either slap him or drop to my knees. Maybe both.
He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t fucking have to. At this point I’d crawl up the stairs if it meant this ache would go away.
