“Really?”
He steps closer.
My breath hitches as he reaches the cabinet and shifts my legs apart again, just enough to stand between them.
“Give me ten ways to kill me,” he says quietly, “and I’ll give you ten reasons why I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”
I blink, caught somewhere between fear and lust for someone I don’t even recognize.
He tilts my chin up with his finger, forcing my gaze back to his.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, voice lower now, “how much I want to.”
“You,” I clear my throat, “you want to fuck me?”
He smiles. “Very, very, very much.” His upper lip twitches.
I don’t even know how to answer, but my body already is. His hand hovers too close, and heat floods my cheeks, burning brighter than my hair. All I can see are his blue eyes, and the way his words sink into me, leaving me breathless.
“I would pull you close,” he says, his hand sliding to my waist, drawing me in. “Spread you open,” he murmurs, easing my legs apart, bringing me closer until there’sbarely any space left between us.
He leans to my ear, his voice dropping. “And I would make you forget that fiancé of yours.” A low chuckle follows. “Yourstandards are low. It wouldn’t be hard to make you see me as your only God.”
The heat twisting inside me snaps.
My breath stutters, then hardens into anger. I shove him away.
“Asshole.”
“There she is,” he chuckles softly. “That fire in you.” He catches me before I can move too far, pulling me back when I try to push him off again. “You could burn the whole world if you found the right flame, kitten.”
“Come closer and you’ll find out.”
He does.
Slowly.
His hand moves from my neck to my chin, his finger gliding toward my lips. And when he gets close enough, I open my mouth and bite him, hard enough to taste blood.
For a second, I expect him to react.
But he just laughs.
“I bite harder, kitten.”
He steps back, like nothing happened, like I didn’t just draw blood from him.
“As much as I’d enjoy this,” he says, voice lighter now, “I have better things to do.”
“Like what?” I shoot back. “Stalking other women?”
He laughs again, like this is all a game to him.
“Kitten, do you really think there are other women?”
I swallow, the realization settling deep in my chest. Men like him don’t divide their attention. They fixate. They chooseone.And somehow, that one isme.
Our eyes lock for a brief second, something unreadable passing between us, and then he turns away again, walking slowly toward the door like he has all the time in the world.
