This is nuts.I don’t care what he thinks of me.
But still, I finish wrapping up his wound.
“All done.” I affix the tape and get off his lap.
He doesn’t let me.
Instead, he digs his fingers into my waist—almost painful—but then my body comes alive. My skin tightens as I take in his broad chest, the pulse throbbing in his neck, and those emerald-green eyes, wild and untamed.
“Lana,” he whispers.
My lips part. His eyes zero in on the motion.
The world swirls as my vision narrows. His face dips closer. My eyes flutter shut when his hot lips brand my neck.
Sparks explode at the point of contact, and I moan. My legs clench to relieve the sudden pulsing in my pussy.
Elias growls and manhandles me until I straddle him.
“What am I going to do with you?” he says, then drags his hand down my back and over my ass. “Fuck me.”
My panties dampen. Common sense flees the scene. I can’t help but move on his lap.
Once. Twice. Small gyrations that drive him wild.
A warning flickers in my mind.I’m his prisoner. He’s a monster.
But my body has other ideas. It wants this virile man to touch me, to hold me like he wants to possess me and never let go.
“Elias.” I bare my neck to him. “I don’t. I need—”
“Yes, princess.” He reaches up and palms my tits, playing with my beaded nipples. I whimper. I need more. So much more. “What do you need from the man who hates you?”
His words are a slap across my face, snapping me out of my haze.
I scurry off him, and the cold air crashes between us like a tsunami.
I miss his warmth.
My lips are swollen even though he didn’t kiss my mouth, and I refuse to analyze the regret that follows.
What am I doing? He’s my enemy. And I’m down here to grab a candle for Kian.
Kian, the sweet boy who would never hold me captive.
Shaking myself, I hurry to the drawer by the dishwasher. I spotted some candles and a lighter there before. I grab them, a fork, and pick up the cake, eager to flee the stifling room.
“I’m sorry.”
His words halt my escape, and I swallow my gasp. I’ve never heard Elias Kent apologize before.
“I’m drunk. Ignore me. Nothing I say means anything right now.”
Another beat of silence.
“What’s the cake for?” Elias exhales. “Please. Come back.”
I stare at the carrot cake, the earlier lust finally fading to the background.
