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“Not from you,” she says.
Her thudding heart contradicts her words. As does her scent.
My lips curve. “Liar.”
Her eyes narrow, and I watch, enjoying the way her temper creeps up on her slowly. It’s fucking amazing to watch her get worked up like this. My cock hardens, painfully erect against my pants.
“Why aren’t you wearing your scarf?” I demand.
“Because I was alone,” she says pointedly. “I thought I was safe.”
“You’re never safe from me, little assassin.”
Her chin comes up in defiance. “I told you before, you don’t scare me.”
“Noted. I’ll try harder.”
Before she can argue, I reach down and stroke her clit through her pants. She gasps, jolting a little at the unexpected contact, but she doesn’t attempt to pull herself away. The fabric of her pants is just thin enough that I can feel the shape of her. Just like I can feel the way she tenses at my touch, arching into my hand ever so slightly.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
Her eyes are locked on mine now, her breath shallow as she watches me intently.
“I’m reminding you what you have to be afraid of.”
“You aren’t going to hurt me,” she says, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
“I never said I would. But you’re just as scared of pleasure, aren’t you?”
She bites her lip, and I increase the pressure of my hand, rubbing her harder. She presses into my touch ever so slightly, and my cock throbs.
“Even if I could…” she trails off, unwilling to say the words, which only makes me increase the pace. The need to see her come apart, in any way I can, drives me onward.
“Even if you could,” I prompt.
Her eyes darken, and the scent of her lust grows stronger. I inhale, my gaze dropping to her mouth. To where her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Fuck. I want her so bad.
“If I could touch you,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t let you claim me.”
“You sure about that, assassin?”
She doesn’t answer me, and I watch as she tips her head back against the shelving, her eyes closing lazily. “No,” I growl, flicking her clit hard enough to make her jump. Her eyes fly open. “Don’t you dare look away.”
I stroke her clit, flicking it and teasing it as she arches toward my hand.
“Eyes on me, do you understand?”
She nods.
With my free hand, I cup her breast through her thin shirt. My blood heats as I realize she’s not wearing a bra. Through the fabric, my thumb and finger find her nipple, flicking it and pulling it as I rub her clit harder.
“Legion,” she whispers, her gaze pleading with me now.
“That’s it, little assassin,” I whisper, leaning in close to her exposed mouth. So fucking close. “Hate me. Even as you come for me.”
“Please,” she pants, breathless.
“Now,” I demand and am rewarded with a soft moan as she finally falls apart in my hands.
