“Game?” He has the audacity to look confused.
“Yes, game. You’re trying to get inside my head, and I want to know why.”
“If I’m inside your head, Wildflower, it’s because you want me there.” He pushes away from the table and stands so that he towers over me. A classic Braxton move, but I meet his gaze, refusing to back down.
I laugh bitterly at his words, and he takes a step toward me. I step back. I can’t have his stupid, intoxicating scent distracting me again.
“You’re lying,” I snarl.
“And why would I do that?”
“Just because I don’t know why you do the heinous things you do doesn’t mean I’m wrong, and it doesn’t make you any less of a monster.” I watch my words hit their mark. His once cordial demeanor evaporating.
“And what heinous things are you referring to?”
“For starters, you’ve trapped me here.”
He steps toward me again, and I step back.
“What else?” He takes another prowling step closer.
“You pulled me away from the fiancé whom I love.”
He snorts. “Right. That’s why you had your tongue down my throat the other night.”
I fume and stop stepping away from him. I’m not going to let him treat me like I’m his prey and he’s my predator. Fueled by my defiance, I take a step toward him. “That isn’t what happened,” I snarl through clenched teeth.
“Are you sure? I thought you had a fuzzy memory of the night. Would you like me to refresh it?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I thought I was a monster.”
“You’re both.”
“And yetyoustill kissedme.”
Before I can think through what I’m doing, I raise my hand high in the air and strike him across the face. To my memory, I’ve never hit anyone. I know I should feel some semblance of shock from my actions. The person I was before I became tethered to this castle would be appalled. But I’m not that person anymore. When I see his skin tinge red where my palm met his cheek, a sick satisfaction fills me.
He tilts his face back to look at me, and I’m stunned to see that he’s smiling. It’s somehow haughty and frustratingly alluring. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me?
“Careful, Wildflower. If you start trying to draw blood, I’m going to take that as your version of foreplay.”
I grind my teeth. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
“No. It’s supposed to intrigue you, and I can see that it’s working.”
I wish he were wrong. I wish the thought of me digging my nails into his shoulders so hard it drew blood while he plowed deeper and deeper into me didn’t send a rush of heat to my core. The desire of my nails marking his skin, leaving him with a reminder of what I can do to him, has my body thrumming.
“What are you thinking about right now?” His tone is husky as his eyes flick between my lust-filled ones.
“Making you bleed.” I don’t recognize the raspy voice that leaves me.
“Flirting with me now, are we, Azalea?”
The sound of my name leaving his lips sends a shock to my system, and I can feel my panties dampening between my legs.
“Just living out my deepest fantasies of killing you,” I snark, though my voice sounds breathless.
