She just stares up at me with those eyes, her lips pressed into a stubborn line.
Why isn’t she afraid of me? I can practically taste the fear from most people when I get this close. Steele men are not good people, and she’s smart enough to know it—to have heard the rumors about me, and what I’m capable of.
But here she is, steady and unflinching, looking me dead in the eye, as if I’m merely an annoyance. Like she’s cataloguing me, dissecting me with that sharp gaze. Like she’s not impressed in the slightest.
The realization makes something hot and frustrated twist inmy gut. Damn her. She has no idea what kind of threat I could be, does she? Or maybe she does and just refuses to show it.
“I’m going to ask one last time… What. Do. You. Want. Dredyn?”
There it is, the crack in her cool facade. She even presses a hand against my chest as if to push me away. Her touch is tentative, though, and I don’t budge an inch. Her palm rests flat over my heart; if she feels how hard it’s pounding, she doesn’t let on.
For a second, I just savor the feel of her small hand against me. It’s almost distracting. But her question still hangs in the air, demanding an answer.
I lean in until my lips hover at her ear, making sure she feels the brush of my breath on her skin. “You,” I murmur, before nipping at her ear.
Mara inhales sharply. I feel the shiver that goes through her. Goosebumps rise on the nape of her neck where my breath touched. She quickly masks it, tilting her head away and letting out a derisive little laugh. “You’re insane,” she says, but the insult comes out too soft.
I let the corner of my mouth curl. “Probably,” I agree under my breath. “Insane for doing this . . . maybe.” My free hand drifts down from the door to trace lightly along her jaw, guiding her face back toward me. My knuckles skim the smooth skin of her cheek and Mara sucks in a breath, but still, she doesn’t pull away.
My fingers slide under her chin, tilting it up. Now, she’s forced to meet my eyes. Her lips part, and I catch her tongue darting out to nervously wet them.
I chuckle darkly. “How close are your walls to breaking, Hellcat?” I murmur. Instead of backing off, I press closer, closing the last inch between us. Her body goes taut as I crowd her even further against the solid wood of the door.
Her chest brushes mine on her next inhale. I glance down and notice the way her nipples have hardened beneath that prim little cardigan, two tight peaks visible through the thin knit. My blood spikes at the sight.So, she isn’t immune after all.
Mara immediately crosses one arm over her chest, realizing what I’m looking at. A flush blooms over her cheeks—angry and embarrassed. “Enjoying the view?” she bites out, voice dripping sarcasm to cover her self-consciousness.
I flash my teeth in a wolfish grin. “Absolutely.” My gaze doesn’t shy away from her body, making it clear I’m drinking in every detail. By now, my desire is a raw, pulsing thing, but I keep my expression composed, taunting. “You can pretend all you want, Mara. Pretend you’re not just as affected as I am.” My eyes flick back up to hers. “But your body betrays you.”
Without warning, I shift off the door, dragging my palm down the wood as I move backward. Mara’s fingers twist the knob handle of the door, stumbling back into the office.
I follow slowly, steady, giving her just enough rope to hang herself. Every step she takes, I match, until she’s retreating deeper into the professor’s office without even realizing it.
Her hip clips the edge of the desk, and she startles, palms slapping back to brace herself on the wood. Cornered. Exactly where I want her. I plant my hands on the desk, one on either side of her.
Mara’s chest rises and falls rapidly, pushing against my torso with each breath. She’s effectively trapped between my arms, pinned against the desk by nothing but intimidation and her own hesitation.
“You’re boxed in now,” I whisper, leaning in so that our noses nearly touch. Her breath fans warm against my lips—fast little pants she’s trying to control. “No one’s here to see just how much you like being under the big bad wolf, hm?”
“I don’t—” she starts, but her voice cracks. She swallows hard. “I don’t like anything about this. You’re vile.”
“Liar,” I breathe, calling her out. My face is inches from hers, and I let my eyes drop to her parted lips. “Your mouth is saying one thing, but the rest of you…”
My hand ghosts down her side, stopping just shy of the hem of her skirt. Not touching—yet. My cock’s already heavy,straining against my sweats like it knows exactly what it wants. Hell, it’s throbbing just from the way she fucking breathes.
My veins are molten, every nerve screaming to close that gap, to shove that prissy little cardigan up and see if she blushes all the way down her body. My dick aches for it, thick and hard enough it hurts, begging me to play with my new toy.
I lean in even closer, until my forehead almost touches hers. “Tell me to stop one more time, and I will.”
Mara’s lips part. She should say it. This is her chance to tell me off, to knee me in the balls, scream bloody murder—something.
But she doesn’t.
The words stick in her throat. I can see the conflict raging behind her eyes.
A growl rumbles up from my chest. My hand moves, fingertips finally making contact as they brush up her thigh, pushing the hem of her skirt an inch. Mara’s breath stutters.
She still doesn’t tell me to stop.
