I stared at him, too stunned to speak. But something inside me responded. My pulse jumped. My thighs clenched before I could stop them.
His voice dropped to a purr, wicked and low. “Most women either act like nuns or lie back and spread their thighs the second a man with money looks their way. But you…” His eyes gleamed. “You run. You fight. You mouth off like you’ve never lost a battle in your life.”
This was going too far. I needed to back away, needed to tell him to fuck off. But my feet wouldn’t move.
“And that,” he said, “makes you interesting.”
I drew in a shaky breath.
“What you really need,” he whispered, “is to be dragged across my lap and spanked until your ass is cherry red, your pride is cracked wide open, and your mind stops lying about what it wants.”
My lips parted in a silent gasp.
The cold didn’t matter anymore. The snow, the street, the world—it all faded away. I was transfixed by the way he was looking at me, by what he’d just suggested he wanted to do to me. My heart pounded. My skin burned.
His eyes descended, slowly and possessively, taking in every inch of me like he was already imagining carrying out his threat.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.
In response, my whole body vibrated—with shame, arousal, defiance, need. I wasn’t even sure which one would win.
But I wasn’t running away.
“Don’t move,” he said.
His voice was low, so quiet I almost missed it. But the seriousness of his tone? It froze every nerve in my spine.
He pulled away slightly, focusing on something just over my shoulder, his usual glacial, I-want-to-kill-someone look returning. His jaw was clenched tight enough to crack.
“Glance at the window reflection only,” he said. “Don’t be obvious.”
I turned slowly, following his instruction. A man stood partially shadowed beside a parked car, head angled. Watching us.
My stomach dropped.
“Delgado’s man,” he said, running his knuckles down my cheek. “The one who’s been following you for days. Carmine warned you about him.”
“What?” My voice cracked. “Why the hell would he be—”
“Because Delgado’s getting itchy,” he said. “He likes to think his property is loyal. You, little lamb, are starting to look like a risk.”
I stepped back on shaky legs, but he followed, towering over me. The air itself seemed charged. He lifted his hand and slid it around the back of my neck.
My breath caught.
He curled his fingers into my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me tilt my chin up.
“I should let them have you,” he said, brushing my lips with his, each word striking like flint against steel. “Let the El Salvadoran rats drag you underground and eat you alive because you got yourself into this mess. But since Delgado already wants to start shit with me, I might as well give him a reason.”
Then—with no warning—he kissed me.
Not soft. Not coaxing.
It was all power, pressure, and punishment. A collision.
His mouth crashed into mine, and I shattered.
His hand clenched tighter in my hair, the other seizing my ass and pulling me hard against him. My legs gave out, but he didn’t let me fall.
