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I gave in to the temptation and leaned forward. Gripping her hips, I hauled her up and into my lap so she was straddling me.
A soft gasp, her eyes widened in surprise but her hands landed on my shoulders, steadying herself.
She didn't try to get off.
"You're playing with fire, little darling, but I'm the one who's going to burn you alive."
"I'm not little,” she frowned. "I may be young, but I’m responsible for things now."
"You are a girl. Young. Naive. Stupid. You have no idea what trouble you've gotten yourself in."
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she growled with a fierce expression.
“And you already turned down each of my offers. What makes you think I would make the same offer twice?"
"Because," she shifted, her dress riding up her thighs, making me stiffen.
I could feel her softness burning through the pants of my suit. Could I make her come like this? Would she be quiet, or scream so loud the whole library could hear?
I bit down on a groan and tried to think of Mrs. Pearl. She was a more suitable option if I needed to fuck. She was my age, more mature to the world, and, best of all, married. There would be no attachments or delusions of commitment.
Unfortunately for me, I didn’t want Mrs. Pearl.
I wanted a sweet bunny, sitting so innocently in my lap.
"You might be a controlling workaholic,” she said, “but you're not evil."
"How do you know?"
"I can sense it."
“Then you sense it wrong. I’m as morally corrupt as they come.”
"Well, if that's true, then why haven't you already taken advantage of me?"
"Not everything is about you," I lied, and in an instant, I could see the hurt in her gaze. Poor little bunny lived with her heart on her sleeve. I reached forward, tracing her braid. "If I took you, what would I get out of it?"
She blanched, clearly not expecting that question.
“Eh, little bunny? What do you have to offer me that I couldn’t get from someone else?”
"I thought I was going to do, like, chores or some--"
"I have a maid. A cook. Are you telling me you can cook better than my five Michelin starred chef?"
"I'm pretty good at boxed macaroni and cheese," she gave me a cheeky grin.
I laughed.
It stumbled out of me so quickly, I didn’t even realize it was happening until it had escaped my mouth. It took effort to stifle it but I managed, shaking my head. “That road leads to a heart attack at the age of forty."
“So?” She raised a shoulder, and my eyes landed on the fine line of her collar. I wanted to taste the skin there. See if it tasted like silken honey. "At least you'd have some good laughs along the way."
The simpleness of her words astounded me. Once again, she'd read me too accurately. I never laughed anymore.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a genuine one. Over the last couple of decades, I’d been too busy living with a constant need for revenge. That required money and information, then power. Now that I had all three, it was within my grasp.
"And you think you could make me laugh?"
