Page 21 of Deceiver

But I’m not about to let that show.

“It’s an open party,” I say, meeting his eyes.

“Not for you.”

“I didn’t see a sign on the gate saying I wasn’t welcome. If you want to kick me out,Nightmare, then you can lift me up and toss me out yourself. Otherwise, I’m staying.”

Calling him Nightmare feels foreign to me, but I also know it stings something inside him because I never use it. At least, the broken parts of me hopes that it does. The reality of it is that he probably doesn’t care.

“What is it you want?”

“I want information. I want to speak with you. I want ...”

He steps up closer. “The truth.”

His voice is gravelly.

“You know what I want,” I whisper, looking up at him, my hair tumbling down my back as my breathing becomes shallow.

“You’ll never have what you want.”

His words hurt.

They’re crushing.

He knows it.

“You can leave now,” I say, my voice strained, my heart racing.

“I’ll give you what youneed, but never what youwant.”

What in the ever loving hell is that supposed to mean?

“And that is?”

He reaches down, taking my knees in his hands and jerking them open, exposing me. My short dress rides up and the lacy panties I’m wearing do nothing to cover my pussy, which is already damp and ready for him. I hate that my body is so very needy when it comes to Western, but I can’t seem to make it stop. I want him almost more than I want the next gush of air to rush into my lungs. He makes me dizzy with desire and lust, and hungry for so much more.

“What makes you think I want this?” I ask, my voice raspy as he runs his finger down the middle of my damp slit, coating his finger in my arousal.

“You can say one word to end it.”

Stop.

I could say stop and he would, I know he would.

But I don’t want him to.

My desperation to feel him far outweighs my pride. I know I should deny him, that I should turn him away and focus only on what I came here for, but my body has been longing for him just as much as my heart. I want to put my hands on him, to inhale his musky scent, to feel his cock dragging in and out of my flesh. I need him. Even if he doesn’t need me.

“Don’t touch me,” he growls, taking my panties in his hands and ripping them off, tearing the material effortlessly. “Don’t kiss me. Don’t put a single part of your body on me. If you scream, moan, or gasp, I’m done.”

What?

What sort of sick, twisted game is he playing?

“So I’m to feel no pleasure?” I whisper, as his finger slowly slides into my exposed pussy, stretching me, rubbing over the already aching bundle of nerves there.

“You can feel whatever you want, just don’t make one fuckin’ sound. I’ll end it. Do not doubt me.”

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