I gawked, an unwanted shiver fluttering through my body. He had me at a disadvantage and he knew it. “How would I know?” I muttered.
“Just like how you determined I’m a cold-blooded killer of innocents.” His warm breath brushed against my skin, and I was suddenly conscious of my hardening nipples. “You’ve seen me kill, maybe you’d like to see me fuck as well?” His eyes searched mine and I swallowed the abrupt ball of nerves that wedged in my throat, trying to blanket my desire.
Three weeks ago, I risked indecent exposure just to have sex with him. While my motives then hadn’t been fair to him, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his eyes penetrated my soul, like he could read every single desire I harbored. About that first touch of electricity between us and its potency. About how he’d rip off my panties and take me on the spot. It made no sense at all. I didn’t know the man, yet I craved him like the need for air. Despite the way he made me blow hot and cold with every passing second since that first meet, something about his possessiveness escalated that need a notch higher until I’d seen him take down those men.
I suppressed a shudder at the thought. Avoiding his gaze, I blew at a strand of hair away from my face. It fluttered for a second before settling back on my cheek, tickling my skin.
“What’s wrong, rats got your tongue?” Zayne blew at the strand, his minty breath stirring tingles through my body. “If I remember correctly, you were drenched, your pussy so ready to take my cock that night. Was it all an act? You’re not so brave after all, are you? Still, a baby, aren’t you?”
Baby? Seriously?I had no idea what game he was playing but if he wanted anger, it quickly stunted my arousal. “Fuck you,” I blurted then cringed.Shit.Did I just swear at a killer capable of ending my life? I’d never cursed a day in my life. Well, not the vulgar kind.
He tilted his head to one side. “I’m going to.” His words were so casual I wasn’t sure I heard right. Then he dropped a hand to my thigh, squeezing lightly and I jumped. His large frame made it impossible to move and I glared at him, hoping he’d step away. The touch of his fingertips feathering up my thigh stirred crazy butterflies in my stomach. I gulped. “Once all this is over.” His fingers flexed and spread out, the tips biting into my skin. “Then I’m going to take you home, rip your cotton panties and eat your soaking pussy for dessert. When I’m done. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days. But not here. Not like this.” He pulled back slightly, his words eliciting dirty images I was trying not to picture. Then that hard touch turned smooth, moving further up. “Or should we start now?”
“Start now?” I squeaked.
He merely licked his lips as if he’d just gotten the taste of something good. His nonchalance was both intriguing and annoying. Something in his eyes, though, told me he was a man with secrets, a closed-off man. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume he was related to my father.
Zayne’s hand moved further up, slipped under the hem of my dress and cupped my mound. I inhaled sharply, the breath stalling in my throat. Our gazes locked, his lips hovering a breath away from mine. I urged calm into my body, trying not to show him I was affected. And when one finger slid over my slit, I bit down on my tongue to stop the whimper, feeling the pain instead. Still, I could do nothing to prevent the slick of arousal that soaked my panty. His lips quirked up as if aware of my inner chaos and the need to act natural. The tip of his tongue snuck out and my gaze dropped, watching the pink wetness roll over his bottom lip. Unconsciously, I parted my lips, every inch of me on fire, desperate for his kiss.
“Have you given it away, baby girl?”
Frowning, I forced my head back against the wall so I could look at him properly. “Given what away?”
“This.” The hand between my thighs gave a gentle squeeze and I shuddered.
Forcing my needy body to ignore his touch was no easy feat. I scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business, you had your chance, you chose to—”
The sudden hardening of his features stalled my words. “Your pussy is my business, Ria.” His voice was low, almost lethal. “Your virginity is mine. You’re mine.”
I gasped, my eyes growing wider as his words slowly registered. “H-how,” I stumbled. “How do you know my name?” His brow shot up. “How do you know I’m a virgin?” Still trying to process the how, leave alone the when tiny dots of uncertainty tickled the tiny hairs at my nape. I never told him my name, did I? For the first time since meeting this man, doubt poisoned my belief that he was someone I could trust.
He cocked his head to one side. “Sometimes what you see doesn’t exist and sometimes what does exist, you don’t see.” I must’ve looked baffled because he laughed then walked back to the bed, leaving me confused and wanton. “I switched on the gas. Shower. Now.” He pointed to my mud-stained dress. “And leave the door open.”
As if.Annoyed with his bossiness, I shook my head not caring if I came across like a petulant child. “I’m fine. It’s just a little mud. I’ll wait till I get home,” I threw back.
“Not if you’re sleeping with me.” He didn’t bother looking up from checking his guns.
“What?” My eyes widened. “I’m not having sex with you.”
This time he glanced at me his smile slow and delicious. “Who said anything about fucking you?”
“You did,” I mumbled then blushed, realizing he meant actual sleeping. Rolling my eyes at my stupidity, I darted into the bathroom followed by his soft laugh. With a loud, “asshole,” over my shoulder, I shut the door.
Despite the old-fashioned brown décor and lemon walls, a white porcelain tub, large and inviting, stood in one corner. Opting for a soak rather than a shower, I undressed and sat on the edge of the tub dipping my fingers in the flowing water as it filled. Steam quickly fogged the air bringing with it an abrupt lethargy. I suddenly didn’t care that I was in some stranger’s house, about to use their bathroom for my leisure while an equally strange Greek God waited on the other side of the door.
I’d just added some bath salts to the hot water when the door swung open. “What the—” Between trying to cover my breasts and my crotch, I lost my balance and fell backward. Half my body, from head to knees sank underwater with my legs flailing over the edge. Spluttering like a dying fish, I surfaced and eventually managed to pull myself out of the tub amid a cascade of water splashing to the floor. Arms folded across his chest, Zayne stood at the door, his lips wide in a grin. “Would you quit sneaking up on me,” I half coughed, half stuttered, glaring at him, while wiping the excess water from my face and remembering our previous meets. “The least you could’ve done was help me.”
“Assholes don’t help, right?” he replied, his smile still in full force.
God, was that punishment for calling him an asshole? Squinting my eyes to emphasize my irritation, I turned my back on him. Then remembering I was naked and that my ass was on display, I quickly slipped into the water. “Can I have a moment of privacy please?”
“No,” came his lazy response.
A loud gasp flooded my mouth when I looked up to find him yanking his shirt over his head. He’d gotten rid of his vest and shoes before he came in. Dumbfounded, I stared, drinking in the sight of a tanned body carved with hard ripped muscles that girls my age dreamed of.Holy shitplayed on a loop in my stunned brain. I’d been too annoyed to notice when he’d taken his shirt off at the pool, now I had a close-up view, and damn. Then his pants dropped, I slapped a hand over my eyes, shielding my view and finding my voice.
“What are you doing?” I could hear the panic in my words. So much for wanting to lose my virginity.
His soft chuckle had me peeking between my parted fingers. An ass, tight, toned, and similar to all those gorgeous Marvel heroes I swooned over, met my eyes as he stepped into the shower. Only when his body, from the chest down, disappeared behind the frosted part of the glass enclosure, did I drop my hand. I looked up and he winked before ducking his head under the shower spray. Either the man was comfortable in his naked skin, or he was arrogant about how good he looked. While I didn’t doubt the former, I went with the latter. He turned away and my eyes widened, taking in the intricate, black-inked tattoo spanning the upper half of his back, from shoulder to shoulder. It was beautiful, like angel wings. How appropriate. Archangel Gabriel.
