Page 110 of Shark’s Pride

I raised my chin and tilted my head to the side. Waiting—with a stare of blatant warning. “Abbigail…”

She shuffled forward, coming to a halt about two feet away.

With an impatient stab, I pointed to the space directly in front of me with expectation.

Her shoes appeared in my field of sight. “That’s my good girl.” The approving rumble emanated from the primal core of my throat. The completed whole of my spirit. Completion. That was what Abbigail was to me.

Connection. Salvation. Perfection.

I’d die for it all. Fight for it all.

And that plan started now.

But first…this moment.

I closed my eyes again. Inhaled her scent. Breathed in her presence. I didn’t touch her. I only memorized the air around her. The heat flowing off her skin. The sizzle of her energy in the atmosphere. The light gleaming in the russet tendrils that had escaped her tight bun. She was eroticism and innocence, both spicy and sweet—just like her amazing personality.

Finally, I looked up again. Her gaze, focused and fervent, was waiting. Her eyes glistened like emeralds, replete with so much emotion. I detected arousal and anger in her dark-green irises, and the simmering mixture was a total turn-on.

Abbi shifted nervously. “Do you want your lunch?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I just want you.” I palmed her creamy cheek. “Will you let me have that, Abbigail?”

“You…you already have me.”

“Take your hair down.”

“Sebastian?”

“Do it.”

“Why are you acting so strangely?” She lifted her hand to my face but thought better of the action when my harsh demeanor hit her in full. It all worked out well anyhow. Before she dropped her hand all the way, I caught it and lifted it back to her head.

Her gaze shifted from side to side, trying to examine every angle of my face. But she’d find nothing. I wore no clue as to how completely I was unraveling.

So I did what I hadn’t allowed myself to do with Abbigail yet.

I dominated her. Controlled her.

And could I be blamed?

The sight of her…

The magic of her…

The entrancing completion of her…

Every one of those praises were bells in my head as I watched her pluck the pins from the coil at her nape. With equally graceful sweeps, she stashed them in her apron’s front pocket. She shook her head to allow the long silky tresses to tumble down over her shoulders. As they fell, I was flooded with the scent of her shampoo. I let my eyes roam from her crown to her waist and then back again. She took my breath away. I would never let anyone hurt her. My resolution grew with each moment that passed in her presence.

“You are so stunning.” I stroked her hair, luxuriating in the way it flowed through my fingers. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Fire.”

I gathered her hair over one of her shoulders. I clutched the ends in my palm and then wrapped the length around and around my wrist. I didn’t stop until I had her drawn close and tight, the warmth of our bodies mingling like the mahogany and copper striations in her mane. I yanked even tighter, using the gathered strands as a rope leash…now holding her in place merely an inch from my lips.

My breath was her breath. My sight was her sight. My scent, her scent.