A wicked laugh escapes me.Do you like it rough, darling human?I ask down the tether.I had thought our first time together would be slow and sweet, as I am eager to earn your affection and your trust, but if you want me to wrestle you onto the bed, I would be happy to oblige.
“Our first time together?” she asks in an angry whisper. “We are never”—she gestures sharply at the bed—“doing that.”
“You mean fucking?”
A flush spreads up her neck and covers her face. “How dare you? Just because you’re a godsdamn fae king doesn’t mean you can talk to me like… like…” She blushes more profusely as her words break off. “It’s hard to think when you’re standing so close,” she adds in an accusatory tone.
A slow, unrepentant smile touches my lips.
“Today wasn’t the first time I heard your thoughts,” I say, making no effort to hide the arrogance in my voice. I lean down until my lips hover at her ear. “I know you find me handsome. That you like the way I smell. And also, that you’ve had some interesting thoughts about my cock, like how delightful it feels when I stand close and press my hardness against your trembling body.”
Her breath hisses inward. She shoves at my chest, and an anguished cry rips from her throat. “I’m supposed to hate you!” she shouts.
Her eyes glisten, and I sense her turmoil. But the scent of her excitement remains heavy in the air, and I know beyond a doubtthat if I were to slip my hand beneath her clothing and touch her pussy, my fingers would come away glistening with her arousal.
I grasp her arms, push her firmly against the bed, and press my hardness to her stomach. I grind forward once, twice, letting her feel the proof of my desire. Her breath hitches, and a second later, she emits the loveliest whimper.
Using my weight to keep her pressed to the bed, I reach one hand up and circle it around her throat. I don’t squeeze. I simply hold her throat. She trembles and squirms against me, but she’s no match for my strength.
She shudders and another fragrant wave of her excitement hits me. Pungent, sweet, and intoxicating. Addictive. I suspect that once I taste her, I’ll never be able to get enough. One taste and I will spend the rest of my life hungering for her. Desiring her.
I lean closer and place my lips at her ear again, allowing her to feel the chill of my winter breath.
“Then show me, darling human,” I whisper, my voice dark with promise. “Show me just how much you hate me.”
CHAPTER 19
HELENA
Then show me,darling human. Show me just how much you hate me.
The taunting, darkly seductive words echo in my head. How could this be happening? How could I be so tempted by the cruel Winter King who conquered Braemar, and on Tribute Day of all days? Surely it means I’m broken inside. Surely it means I’m the worst kind of traitor to my people.
His cold breath tickles my ear, a teasing caress that causes me to shiver anew. Goosebumps ripple along my arms, and heat continues to quake steadily between my thighs. He’s still leaning over me, holding me against the bed, his hardness pressing firmly into my stomach.
I start to think of the very first vision I had, the one where I saw him naked. But I quickly push the thought from my mind, not wanting him to know about the strange visions.
His hand remains wrapped around my throat, firm but not tight. He doesn’t squeeze. Not even for a moment. And somehow that restraint makes me want him more. My pulse thrums wildlybeneath his fingers, and I know he’s aware of every tremor that passes through me.
He knows how fervently I’m aching for him. Even if he couldn’t hear my thoughts, he can apparently smell my desire. I flush at the realization and press my thighs tightly together.
It’s difficult enough for me to contend with my unwanted attraction to him, the relentless, pulsating heat in my core, but knowing that he’ll always,always, be able to sense my need is deeply unsettling.
He leans back and meets my gaze, a challenging glint in his eyes.
Show me just how much you hate me.
I become acutely aware of his mouth, so close to mine that my breath stutters. His lips are full and inviting, dangerously so. If I tilt my head even a fraction, he could so easily kiss me. We could so easily cross a line that could never be uncrossed.
This is madness.
This is weakness.
I feel myself melting into him before I can stop it. I angle my mouth closer to his and part my lips. “I do hate you,” I whisper, though the words sound thin, unconvincing even to my own ears.
His brow arches slightly, as if daring me to prove it.
He won’t kiss me first, I realize, sensing his thoughts.
