“Exquisite,” he growled, voice rough and gravely.
I held his gaze, marveling at the flush on his cheeks. At the glisten of swollen, parted lips.
Asherwas the beautiful one. The one without scars or limits. Especially so, when he looked at me likethat, with his ki hammering at every piece of me, filling me with a hunger not my own.
“Let go,” he whispered, tugging at black silk. “I want to see you.”
Something wicked unfolded in my chest. Something born of whiskey and madness, for unable to resist the urge, I said, “No,” and didn’t bother to mask the blatant challenge from an apex predator.
With a snarl, he lifted me, dress and all. Kicking the door shut, he carried me toward the bed.
I squealed when he tossed me, blushing to the roots of my hair as I scrambled to the far end of the mattress, clutching the Glaith in a ball of loose fabric even as I tried to conceal my nudity. Knowing it was foolish to keep my last secret so close, yet terrified to do what it took to buy his distraction.
Even with the whiskey, I lacked the confidence to meet him on a level that Kas could be proud of.
And yet, he watched me from the foot of the bed. Lips curving around a sinister smile, unbuckling his belt one-handed.
“I—” Inching back until my shoulder blades met the chill of the headboard, I shook my head. “A-Asher—”
His pants hit the floor. “Mila.”
“You’re not…” Entranced, I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop the perverted little shiver from racing through my blood, kicking at the bond in time with pumping fist gliding sure and easy over his erection. Couldn’t help the blood that rushed to my core, or the flood of slick heat that followed. His unapologetic sexuality a drug to my sense of modesty. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
He chuckled. “Very astute. Now come here.”
That something wicked surfaced again, hushing the uncertain voice searching for the nearest escape. I met his eyes. “No.”
“Ah, yes,” he drawled, and knelt on the bed. “Defiant as ever, my wild Priestess.” Knees spread, one hand on his manhood, Asher licked his lips. “There’s only one problem with your act, darling.” He tapped the bronzed skin over his heart, bumping the pendant. “I can feel you.” He stroked it, engorged head straining toward me, shining with need. “How much you want this.”
“No.”
Voice hoarse, he continued. “It’s the fight, isn’t it? The struggle. The idea that I’ll pin you down and take what I want…” He smiled, slow and sexy. Watching me. “Oh, yes. Look at you. I’ll bet anything I own that pretty little pussy is soaking wet, isn’t it?”
Face burning, I shook my head, but that was not a bet I could make. And he knew it. As sure as looking at the evidence of just how muchhewanted this too. “It’s the bond. This isyourfault.”
“Oh, no,” he drawled, then seized my ankle with his free hand. “You don’t get to pretend this time.” He pulled, not stopping until my bottom came into contact with his thighs, dress hiked indecently high about my hips. “Fuck,” he grunted, draping each of my legs over his. Ignoring my insincere attempt to stop him with nostrils flared. Half-lidded gaze focused between my thighs, he sucked a breath between his teeth.
Clutching black silk and Glaith over my nipples, I waited for a verdict. Spread before him. Over him. Not sure if I’d see revulsion or desire shining in those inky depths—terrified ofboth.
“Move your hands,” he murmured, rough palms traveling from knee to thigh. Stopping only to draw those damned circles over my hip bones.
Again, I shook my head.
Asher grinned. All teeth and feral glee. “Mhm. Thought so.” He lunged, wrestling my hands away from my breasts, and flung the ruined dress over his shoulder. Not recognizing thepingof metal and Glaith striking wood for the prize bared before him.
And itwasa prize—or so the bond would have me believe. My submission, no matter the cause, washis,for I didn’t fight him. Not really. Not even when he pinned my hands over my head and gave his weight.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispered, naked flesh prickling mine, the weight of his arousal bumping the edge of my mound. “Feelsright.”
My lips parted, but nothing came out.
“It’s okay.” He braced above me, weight pinning me to the mattress. “I don’t need you to say it. Not yet.” Shifting my wrists to one hand, he explored with the other, fingers bumping over every ridge of my stretched ribs… my breasts. He squeezed, snared by the image of my nipple flushing red between forefinger and thumb. “Fucksakes, that’s sexy.”
And then his head dipped and he claimed the sensitive nub between his teeth. Nibbling.
Back arched, I tried to pull awayandforce him to take more all at once, vision blurred by the shock of sensation.
“You’re wound so tight, Mila—” nimble fingers found that twin peak, pinching. “Aching for it. Like nothing I’ve ever felt…” He shivered. “Won’t take much…”
