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My heart sinks. “Why not?”
He rubs his forehead. “Because if I look at you again Zora, I’m afraid I’ll never stop. I’m terrified that if I see your eyes, I’ll fall forever, and if I see your mouth, I’ll kiss you until I can’t feel anything but you. I’ll drown in you if I look at you, and I can’t do that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please just give me the needle, leave this room, and get some rest.”
I stare at him, everything in me soaring to an impossible height.He wants me, I realize.He may want me more than I’ve wanted him.
I swallow, and despite every red flag waving vigorously through my mind, I make a decision. I reach a hand out and press it gently to his thigh, feeling the muscle tense beneath my palm. Thrill ignites through my chest as I squeeze his thigh gently. “I’m scared, too.”
Chapter Six
ThePrinceliftshishead, and I reach up to pull his mask away. Magic crackles as I do, and I’m torn apart by the beauty of his true eyes. I toss his mask to the side, pleased with myself as I turn back to claim what is mine, what I want. Not some stupid random guy from the club. No, I want The Prince, even if I have to kill him tomorrow.
But when I turn back, he’s across the room. His face scrunches with pain. His eyes swirl with a raging storm of color. He presses himself into the bathroom counter and forces himself to look away from me.
Well, that won’t do.I stand and stride to him, grasping his waist and tugging him against me. When he won’t look at me, I reach up and grab his chin. I force his face around, and pleasure rolls through me as his infinite gaze slices straight into my heart.
“Zora,” he begs. His hands tighten on the countertop behind him. “We can’t.”
“That’s only more of a reason to.” I remove a hand from his waist and slide it up his torso. Heat prickles through me as I feel along every toned ridge of his abdomen.
“I will not anger Fate,” he growls.
I narrow my eyes and snarl. “I don’t know what you mean by that but — fuck Fate. It doesn’t own me or what I want, and tonight, I want you.”
Blood curls down his neck, the wound at his cheek spilling. He groans as I move my hand down below his waistband, my fingers grazing the top of his underwear. “Fuck Fate,” he says, breathless, and I smile, thinking he’s agreeing with me.
But then he forces himself away from me, my arms falling slack at my sides.
Frustration wiggles to life across my shoulders, sprouts through my chest. I glare at him as he snatches his mask from where I left it and puts it on.
“Take that back off,” I demand, one hundred percent over this cat-and-mouse game. “You’re going to get your ass over here and have the best Gods-damned sex of your life, or I will cut your balls off.”
The Prince grabs the needle and thread next, a sputtering breath leaving his lips. He glances at me, a hint of a smile breaking free, but he replaces it with indifference and steps up to the mirror.
I fold my arms and scowl as he washes his wound then stitches it over. “Do you think I won’t do it?”
He smirks. “Oh no, Zora. I know you will. That’s why I’m going to stitch up this wound, then I’m going to get the hell out of here.”
I scowl, and heat flares up my neck. “I guess I’ll cut them off right now then.”
“Yes, but then you might ruin my stitch work, and I imagine you don’t want a big, fat ugly scar on my face.” He grins at himself in the mirror. “You might not find me as attractive anymore.”
“I love scars, actually. So, really, you’re just persuading me further,” I point out, taking a purposeful step toward him. I tug the skirt of my dress up.
His eyes fly to the movement, and he stops what he’s doing mid-stitch. His eyes darken with lust. “Zora.”
“You know, it’s really not fair that I don’t know your name.” I continue to pull my dress up my leg.
He shifts his weight and begins stitching again, trying to ignore me.
Finally, I reveal my holster around my thigh, and when his gaze flicks over again, he sucks in a deep inhale.
“Fuck me,” he grumbles, his eyes raking up and down my bare leg. He grits his teeth in determination and finishes his stitch, tying it off and cutting the thread free.
I tug out my long knife, its blade curved, then drop my dress and close the distance between us as his scissorssnip. I give him a wicked smile as I reach out with my blade, going straight for his balls.
The Prince’s eyes widen. His lips part in shock before he lunges backward in fright.
I bend over as laughter rumbles out of me. I clutch my knife to my chest with a wheeze. “Oh fuck, your face,” I snort. “You should have seen your face!”
