"I think I should sit over there." Sasha pointed at the other chair. Ten minutes ago, she had felt meek and agreeable. Now all her unanswered questions and concerns rushed back, bathing her in anxiety and again robbing her of her peace of mind. His lap was one of her favorite places in the world, yet she needed to leave it so she could think clearly.
Sara had told her she would be moody, but moody did not describe this up and down ride of uncertainty and crazy that felt like she was adrift in a tiny boat on too big stormy waves. Today alone she had experienced every emotion on the spectrum. Her own unbalanced behavior was making her sick.
Was she going to be like Maura? She didn't feel broken, not yet anyway. But how else could she explain her irrational choices?
It had seemed like the perfect idea to sneak away from the compound without telling anyone earlier, perfectly feasible to walk through the city unescorted, and perfectly right to ignore what Kane was saying with his actions since he wasn't saying what she wanted to hear with his words.
He had left her. It didn't matter that he had good reason to. She hadn't forgiven him for it yet.
He made her crazy. He made her want him, then hosed her down with ice water.
Sasha shifted, trying to get up. She didn't want to. She needed to. He didn't deserve her. This monster—with his hot, delicious golden skin and a smell that made her gums hurt—he didn't deserve the slick that was instantly pooling between her thighs at his touch.
Her nose touched the base of his throat. With a will of its own, her tongue tasted him. Just a tiny bit, then she'd move she promised herself.
Kane's groan boomed deep in his chest. His left hand on her thigh moved smoothly over the curve of her butt cheek and toward her spine. His hands were so big it felt like he could cradle her curves with just one of them. What would it look like, his big beast of a hand encompassing the round curves of her bottom? The image made her heart flutter and her slick drip.
Everything about Kane made her drip.
Sasha murmured, "I must be heavy. I should go sit in the other chair."
Kane grunted. His face was very close to hers. Sasha felt his breath on her mouth and she opened, tasting his exhalation. His left hand gently squeezed.
Pleasant tingles sparked in her belly and the base of her spine. Her nipples pinged as if he'd tweaked each one. Her muscles relaxed without her permission. Slick bathed his thigh.
"Fuck, Beauty. You have made me addicted. Soon I will be tasting that."
"I don't know what you can be addicted to. You have been gone, looking for Merrick and doing who-knows-what-else." She pushed at the wall of his chest. "I forgot you even lived here. I don't even know you."
She wanted to give into the impulse to dig in her claws in the pads of muscle and bite him. Never had she looked at a man and needed to bite him. The urge wasn't normal; it couldn’t be.
"From the moment we were in the car together. Fruit and salted honey. You have a feast for me, don't you?"
"I'm just a poor breeder girl from a poor sector. Someone seized all my holdings. I have nothing to offer."
"You are going to learn your worth if it's the last thing I do, Beauty." His hand rubbed and moved and squeezed down her leg, up her thigh, and around her butt.
Sasha moaned. More wet trickled from between her thighs. There was no pain from it now. His touch felt so right.
"You're making me mess. Please stop."
"Stop so you can be saved for your real mate? Are you still thinking of the Selection? You want one of your father's cronies?"
His free hand tugged at her wet hair. His mouth found that sensitive place where that hair connected with her scalp and he kissed the spot.
"I need to get back to my life. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself here. I don't know where I fit. You are the Warlord Alpha. I make good gin. I have people who depend on me. New flavors to invent. I want to try something besides fruit flavors. I have plans."
She watched her own hand move, tracing corded muscles and fingering through Kane’s sparse dark hairs. What would he think if she picked up his hand and sucked on his fingers?
He grabbed the data pad on his desk, opened a program, and scrolled to a list of names. Sasha wanted to tell him to put his hand back on her butt, to keep touching her there. She needn't have worried—he gave her the pad and his hand returned, reaching deeper, fingers going all the way to the crack.
Sasha panted. It felt nice, tickling just a bit, waking up skin that had never known touch.More,she moaned inwardly.
Biting her lip, she shut that down. She was not a harem girl. None of that from Sasha Dover.
"Look at the names."
What was he saying?
