And gods help me, it was working.
My fingers spasmed against the wooden shelf, but they felt boneless, too weak to push him off and too addicted to his heat to try.
My thighs pressed together on instinct. Each inch his finger travelled, each breath that caught in my throat, tightened the pull between my legs as he awakened a hunger inside me that made my body ache with the desperation to be touched.
He was almost there—almost at the centre, at the softest part of me—and my heart was beating like it wanted to escape, knowing it wouldn’t survive the impact of his touch.
He leaned in again, his breath trailing down my ear. “You’re burning hotter than usual, Sanora,” he said teasingly, almost mockingly, his dark smile reflecting in his voice.
I closed my eyes. I hated that he was right.
When was the last time I had sex? Maybe if my body wasn’t too on edge these days, I wouldn’t find this act so arousing and aching, it made my body feel too full and too empty all at once.
His fingertip grazed the delicate edge of my areola, the touch so slight it sent a shiver darting through my chest. My teeth sank into my bottom lip, trapping the gasp that wanted to break free.
“Stop playing,” I whispered.
We were in the library—tucked away in the back, yes, but still in plain enough for someone to wander upon us. and I knew if he continued teasing me and went deeper into it, I wouldn’t be able to keep the sound in.
What the hell was wrong with me? I was letting a man—practically a stranger— touch me here. A man I still wasn’t sure I could trust. I didn’t know if his constant rescue of me from death’s doorstep was just him biding his time before he decided to be it. His pattern didn’t fit the mould of an assassin waiting for a perfect strike…but I wasn’t naïve enough to discard the possibility. Not when he’d proven what lengths he’d go. Like the time he bought every accommodation in Nimorran, making sure I had nowhere else to run to, and then doubled my rent so he could move in.
I tried to pull myself together and parted my lips to tell him off when I saw his other hand rise. The sharp glint of his dagger caught the light before its tip kissed the hollow of my throat. His other hand, the one that had been circling my nipple, left its slow orbit to wrap around my neck, the blade hovering directly above his grip.
My heart stuttered in my chest. My stomach dropped, and something warm unfurled low in my belly. His palm burned against my skin, branding my throat, and every word I might have shouted dissolved before they could form. And he wasn’t even wearing his black gloves, so his touch scorched like it’d been drawn out from hell a minute ago.
“What…what are you doing?”
He bent down, his breath grazing the shell of my ear. “Are you scared?”
Of course. But my fingers only dug into the edge of the shelf, my gaze sharpening until it was a weapon of its own. Any sane arousal should have withered the moment that blade touched the base of my chin…yet I believed he wouldn’t end me. And since he wasn’t, the knowledge made my thighs press together. Fear thudded in my chest, heat coiling low at the thought of him playing this dangerous game with me.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I managed.
Thrax’s grip tightened just enough to make me swallow. The tip of the knife dipped until it hovered over my pounding heart. I could hear the smile in his voice when he murmured, “Liar.”
Gods, his voice. That low, velvety rasp slid into my ear and bled into my bloodstream, each word stoking the heat in my skin until my breath came uneven. Arousal gripped the base of my stomach like a fist, my thighs clenching tighter and, without thinking, I rubbed myself against him.
The shift in him was instant, his fingers flexing around my neck as if his control slipped for the briefest moment. His voice darkened. “Doesthisturn you on?”
Heat flooded my face. The question was a very personal one. His hand was around my throat, and I didn’t want him to let go. Even knowing he could snap my neck before I could breathe the wordstop,I wanted more. The dagger’s tip could pierce me in an instant, but instead, I wanted it to trace the same path his fingers had—over the swell of my breast, around its curve, circling until I was the one begging.
I was sick, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here trusting this man with my life when normally, seeing any of my exes bring a knife to bed would have sent me running for the hills with my heels touching the back of my head. Somehow, I trusted he was more expert at handling sharp objects than any man I’d met.
Thrax’s grip closed fractionally tighter, pulling me back into the present. “Answer me.” He dragged the blade down until it kissed the curve of my breast. A pause. And then he stopped directly over my nipple, making my entire body still. “Does this,” he said softly, “turn you on?”
If he didn’t stop speaking into my ear, I’d lose whatever remained of my restraint. “What do you think?” I breathed. I fought not to press my hips back into him again, but the urge sat there, restless and knocking.
Without warning, he straightened, his hand at my throat guiding my head back against his chest, tilting it up until I had no choice but to look at him.
Even from this angle of view, he was still towering. His gaze raked my face, lingering on my eyes, then my nose, pausing on my parted lips. His pupils deepened until his eyes looked like they could swallow me whole. My pulse stuttered, racing harder as the expression on his face told me he wasn’t immune to this either.
To be certain, I stayed locked on his gaze, then rose on my toes, pushed my hips up, and rolled my hips against him. Once. Twice.
The surprise in him was brief, replaced by a flex of his grip and a subtle shudder in his breath. His eyes closed for a fraction of a second, jaw tightening as though holding himself back took every ounce of discipline he had left.
Andgods, that look—that war in him—pulled something in me tight, until it snapped. My clit throbbed in warning, my chest rising in shallow bursts. Damn, I was attracted to this version of man who was trying not to push me against the shelf and shove my trousers down my legs, who was trying to regain a semblance of control when I was a second from losing mine.
And judging by the tension in his jaw, so was he.
