She gasps, clutching the blanket to her chest like armour. But she doesn’t stop me. Not really.
I shift closer, weight pressing the mattress down, caging her in with the heat of my body. “You think I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours? You think I don’t see how you look at me when you think no one’s watching?”
Her lips tremble, but her eyes never leave mine. “You’re—Kate’s father.”
The words crack like a whip, like they should put me in my place. But instead they ignite something feral in me.
“Yes,” I breathe, my nose brushing hers, my mouth almost touching. “And still—you want me.”
Her silence is a confession.
And I’ll bleed it out of her before the night is done.
Her silence is loud. Louder than any plea. Louder than any slap across my face could ever be.
I tilt my head, drinking her in like she’s already spread out for me, even though she’s still clinging to that blanket like it can save her. It can’t. Nothing can.
“You know what I like best about you, Brooklyn?” I let the question coil between us, fingers skimming over her shoulder, her collarbone, the hollow of her throat. “You never say what you mean. You try so hard to fight me with your mouth, but your body…” My hand drags lower, just to the edge of the blanket where her chest rises sharp and frantic. “…your body begs me to keep going.”
She jerked the fabric higher, but too late—I already seen the way her nipples pebbled, betraying her.
“Stop.” It comes out too soft, too cracked.
I chuckle, leaning in until my lips graze the shell of her ear. “That’s the problem, baby. You don’t want me to stop. You just want me to pretend for you. Make it easy. Make it clean. But that’s not what I am, and it’s sure as fuck not what you came looking for when you signed up to be here.”
Her throat bobs, eyes wide, pupils swallowing the colour of them.
I push lower, pressing my palm against her hip over the blanket, pinning her down with barely any weight. Just a hint of what I could do if I stopped holding myself back. “You think Kate has a clue? You think she could even handle knowing what I want to do to you right here, in my house, while she sleeps down the hall?”
Her breath shatters, and fuck—it makes my cock ache.
I drag my nose down her jaw, slow, savouring the tremble that ripples through her. “Tell me no,” I whisper. “Tell me to leave, and I’ll walk out that door. But if you don’t…” My hand slips under the edge of the blanket, rough fingertips brushing hot skin. “…you’re mine. Tonight. Every second. Every inch. Mine.”
She’s trembling so hard now I can feel it through the mattress, but she still doesn’t move, doesn’t push me away.
I bared my teeth against her throat, a predator holding back the bite.
One word. That’s all it’ll take to decide whether I devour her or leave her burning.
Her lips part as if she wants to speak, but nothing comes out. Just a strangled exhale, shaky, betraying her.
I stay right there, my mouth ghosting over her throat, not biting, not kissing—just close enough that she feels the heat of me, the threat of me.
“You’re quiet now,” I murmur, voice a low rasp that vibrates against her skin. “All that fight, all that bite—you lose it the second I pin you down. Makes me wonder if you even like pretending you hate me, or if it’s just part of the game, you play with yourself.”
Her nails dig into the blanket, knuckles pale. She won’t look at me. Which only makes me grip her chin and force her head my way, slow, cruel.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes flick to mine, wide, glazed, desperate.
That’s when I smirk, because there’s nothing she can hide from me not the flush painting her chest, not the way her thighs clench tighter beneath the blanket, not the way her lips tremble like she’s already waiting for me to taste them.
“Good girl,” I whisper, deliberately soft, knowing the words will ruin her. “You don’t even know how much you crave being called that.”
She shudders, gasping as if she hates me for being right.
My thumb drags across her lower lip, tugging it down, slow. “You know what happens when prey stops running, baby girl?” I tilt closer, lips brushing the corner of hers. “The predator gets to eat.”
