“Fine,” I say eventually. I pretend I’m fine, like my pulse didn’t just kick hard against my ribs. “Can’t have you getting shanked by some rookie just ‘cause you don’t know which end is the sharp one.”
She rolls her eyes. I grin. God, she’s fun when she’s pissed.
There we go.
I lead her to the open space. I take the knife from my pocket and weigh it in my palm before raising my eyes to look at her again.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Dead sure.”
She’s standing across from me, hands on her hips, mouth set in that stubborn line that makes me want to kiss her or break something. Both, probably. She wants control, but she doesn’t realize she’s already lost it, because now I’m picturing her with blood on her hands and my name in her mouth.
I toss her the blade.
She catches it.Not bad.
“You planning on fighting or filleting a fish?”
She flips me off.
There she is.
“I’ve never stabbed anyone before,” she says.
I smile. “You will.”
She laughs like I’m joking, and I see some splinters of defiance in her. A need to prove she’s not fragile. I know she’s not. She’s fire and grit beneath all that softness. But there’s still a tenderness to her, something pure, and whether I keep it from falling or drag it into the dark, it’s mine to corrupt or protect. I haven’t decided which.
“Show me how to stand,” she says.
God, her voice. She could ask me to burn the world down, and I’d ask if she wanted it slow or fast.
I move behind her.
She smells like soap and something sweeter beneath it, something that curls low in my gut.
I press my palm low on her spine, flattening her posture. Her body stiffens.
“You’re too tight,” I murmur. “Loosen up.”
She exhales through her nose. I know she hates taking orders.
I shift her stance with my knee, my hands sliding to her hips because … Well, I just can’t keep them to myself.
“Wider. Stable. You don’t want to fall on your back.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Afraid I’ll hurt you?”
I smirk, leaning in. “I’m praying for it.”
She chuckles. Her shoulders loosen, and her ass presses back into my cock.
Christ.
I guide her weight. Her center. She follows without resisting, and that does something dangerous to me. I don’t want her obedience. I want herchoice.
She tilts her head slightly, giving me her neck.
