My heart skips as the charcoal depths of his black eyes settle on mine.
“Kane, I can’t help you—we can’t help each other—if you don’t tell me your whole plan. I’ve shown mine. It’s your turn to show yours.”
For a long moment, he says nothing. His gaze slides down and fixes where my palm rests on his knee. Then, with a gentle touch, he lifts my hand, turning it over to trace the faint lines and creases of my palm with his fingertips. I should pull away, but his touch sends a wave of electricity coursing through me that keeps my brain from sending my body the right signals.
“It is best if you don’t know all the details of my plan. I wouldn’t want to bring you down with me.”
“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”
His fingers trail up my wrist, ghosting over the delicate pattern of veins beneath my pale skin, igniting a fire deep within me that burns hotter with each passing second. “I’m going to recover what’s mine.”
“And what’s yours?” I breathe.
“We all have our secrets, Fawn.”
True, but why do I feel like I have way fewer than he does?
His touch lingers on me, his fingers tracing slow hypnotic circles against the crease of my elbow, and a shiver of pleasure ripples through my core.
“It’s nice to know we’re both using each other. That way, no one gets hurt.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m using you,” he counters. “I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial partnership.”
“We’re partners now?”
He continues to caress my skin as he leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Actually, Lady Ashwood,” he murmurs, “I do believe we’re married.”
The tension between us is palpable, a fog-inducing pull that I can’t ignore and, right now, don’t want to.
He glides his hand up the bare expanse of myshoulder. His fingers trail along the delicate curve of my collarbone, and my heart beats heavy in my chest, fire burning along the pathway of his touch. Along the column of my throat, he lingers, and another wave of heat flushes my cheeks.
“You can’t distract me,” I manage to say, though the words come out a whisper, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “There’s something more you’re not telling me. I’ll find out what you’re hiding.”
“Will you?” His lips curve into a smile, a hint of mischief dancing in his dark eyes as he leans even closer, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “How long do you think we’ll have to pretend to be married before we both recover what’s ours?”
I swallow hard, unable to tear myself away. “Not long.”
“But one night for sure,” he continues, his gaze locked with mine in silent challenge.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s possible.” My cheeks flush crimson under his dark gaze, and I have to remind myself of my mantra.
Expansion and autonomy…evolution and independence… Expansion and autonomy…evolution and independence.
Do not think you can change him and get him to care about you. It’s a waste of the little time you’ll be here.
His thumb grazes over my bottom lip. My willpower dissolves like sugar in the rain as my lips part, and I draw in a shaky breath, the air heavy with the intoxicating scent of forest and smoke.
My tongue flicks out instinctively, catching the tip of his thumb, and I can’t help but marvel at the way his smile deepens, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Do you like the way I taste?” His voice vibrates throughout the tight interior, and I shiver. “Taste me again, Little Fawn.” He slides his thumb into my mouth. I wrap my tongue around him like he’s made of salted honey. “There’s my good girl,” he says, and I don’t realize my eyes are closed until his lips are on my neck, his mouth having a taste of its own.
“You like it.” His breath sears my neck. “Tell me you like it.”
A breathy moan escapes me, and my hand once again finds his knee, slides up his thigh.
Kane grabs my wrist. “Good girls listen and are patient.” He forces my hand down by my side. “And you’re my good girl, aren’t you, Fawn?”
Yes. The word is there on my tongue as it slides around his thumb.Make me your good girl.
