Power radiates off of him in heated waves, but I never move. I let him show me everything he’s harboring. Every inch of his body aligns with mine, his hips hard between my thighs as his lips graze along my jawline.
And still, I do nothing but watch him.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Confusion lines his brow, and he searches my face.
He embarrassed me, covered me in his bodily fluids, and now he forces me down to show me who’s in charge.
I see the role here. I do. And I know exactly what the point is he’s trying to make.
Will I break in this kingdom of hell?
“Where’s your fucking fight now?” He jerks against my wrists harder, stretching me out even more beneath him. I don’t so much as shift against his dominating frame. “Fight, Cersia!” he commands, but it isn’t like Zilo. It isn’t the sound of dominance.
It’s the sound of desperation.
How did his prince break him so hard for his tortured soul to be so hellbent on hurting everyone he meets?
My heart sinks at that thought.
He’s hurting. He’s pained. He’s broken.
But I’m not afraid.
“No,” I whisper so softly it hurts to say the simple word to him.
Why do I have this reaction to him? He hates me and yet, I’m not afraid of him. Is it the kindness he shows Avain that makes me think he wont hurt someone smaller or suffering?
I think he would, actually.
But he needs me. They already have one dead bride on their hands, they wont risk another.
“You have to fight here.” Big jewel-like eyes are soft as he studies the curves of my features. It’s a look I haven’t yet suffered from the cruel shifter: it’s a look of concern. “If you don’t fight?—”
“They’ll break me,” I finish for him. Strong hands slip off of mine, and I catch his fingers in mine before he has a chance to slip away. I hold his hands the same way he was just holding me. But not to force violence from him. I do it to ensure he knows I’m here. I’m here because of him.Withhim…
We aren’t enemies. Even if we aren’t a pack either.
“They’ll break me either way, Roman. How I react to their torment is what will earn me insight into who they are. And what their weaknesses are.” At that, his brows lift high. He suddenly seems aware of how intimately he’s pressed against me. My thin gown is cold against my body but his warmth is all I know. My fingers are intertwined with his, our chests are melded perfectly together, and…and his cock is very hard against my center.
Who would have thought kindness was this bastard’s weakness?
His long fingers fling out, and he pulls his hands as well as every single part of him swiftly away from me. He’s striding across the room in less than half a second.
It’s my turn to smile smugly.
“You need to get changed. Clean up. You look disgusting.” He lifts a hand, gesturing toward a bathtub in the corner, and I note there are several ivory gowns hanging on a hook just to the left of the shining black tub.
For the next several minutes, he does a fine job pretending his thick cock isn’t still jutting out as he pulls out a pair of black jeans and starts carelessly pulling them on. He struggles to cover the aggressively hard thing but after a few fighting seconds he does succeed.
While I watch him like he’s my new favorite hobby.
I will understand him. I will learn everything about him. And then…yeah, then I might do him.
