Page 58 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“Will you?” He leaned in further, until his face was mere inches from mine. I could feel his breath against my skin. Could see the way his pupils had dilated again, the glow of his eyes intensifying. “Or will you find excuses to touch them again, now that you know what it does to me?”
“I won’t?—”
“Swear it.”
“I swear I won’t touch your horns without permission.”
“Or my tail.”
“Or your tail.”
“Good girl.”
The words went through me like lightning. I felt my breath catch, my heart stutter. His expression shifted, nostrils flaring slightly, and I realized he could probably sense my reaction through the bond. Could feel exactly what those two simple words had done to me.
“You like that,” he observed, his voice pitched low and intimate. “Being praised. Being told you are good.”
“That’s not?—”
“Do not lie to me when I can feel the truth.” His hand slid from my jaw to my neck, fingers resting lightly against my pulse. “I can sense your heart racing. Can feel the heat rising in your skin. Can taste your arousal in the air.”
Oh God.
“This is lesson four,” he continued, relentless. “I am not human. My senses are not human. You cannot hide your reactions from me, no matter how much you might wish to.” His thumb pressed against my pulse point, feeling it flutter. “Right now, I know exactly what you are feeling. The curiosity. The nervousness. The want.”
“Bastian…”
“Say my name again.”
“This isn’t fair.”
“I never claimed to be fair. I am a Krampus. I punish the naughty. This…” He leaned in, his mouth hovering next to my ear. “This is discipline. Education. Ensuring you understand the danger you court when you touch me without thought.”
His breath was hot against my skin. His body was so close there was barely an inch between us, but he still wasn’t touching me except where his fingers rested against my throat. The restraint was deliberate, calculated, and absolutely devastating.
“Do you feel the danger?” he murmured. “Pinned against these shelves, held in place by a creature who could hurt you if he wished?”
“No,” I whispered. Because I didn’t. I felt safe. Incredibly turned on, but safe.
“You should.” His hand skimmed down over my chest, not quite touching, but close enough to turn my nipples to aching little peaks, before returning to my pulse. “You should fear me at least a little. You should understand that I am stronger, faster, more powerful than you in every way.” The chains tightened fractionally on my wrists. “You should recognize that when you touch me, you are playing with fire.”
“But you won’t hurt me.”
“No.” The word was certain. “I will not. But I will ensure you understand exactly what you are doing when you touch me. I will make you feel the consequences of your casual affection.”
“This feels like a consequence.”
“This is a warning, little light.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes burning. “The next time you touch my horns, I will not stop at warnings. I will show you precisely what your touch does to me. And I will ensure you cannot walk away unaffected.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It is a promise.”
We stared at each other, the air between us crackling with tension. His chains still held my wrists above my head. His fingers still pressed against my pulse. His body still hovered close without quite touching. The restraint was costing him—I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the rigid set of his jaw, the way his tail had gone absolutely still behind him.
“What if…” I started, then stopped.
“What if what?”
