Why is he here—now? At one in the morning?
Asher dangles his head to the side so his eyes can rake down my body. He takes in every inch of my five-foot-six height before returning his eyes to mine. “Your room? Who said this was your room?”
Not giving me a chance to respond, he pushes off his feet to bridge the gap between us. Although the heat bouncing off him has dried my skin, I lean over to snag one of the towels off the bed.
It freezes halfway to my body when hetsks. “Why cover up now? It’s only an additional article of clothing I’ll force you to remove.”
Force?
Hands shaking, I circle the towel around my quivering body and take a step back.
Asher finds my defense amusing. He saunters closer to me, his haughtiness at an all-time high. “Why act scared? Velika said you seemed wary about becoming a chambermaid, yet here you are, in my room, waiting for me. What a great way to announce you’ve changed your mind.”
My eyes bounce between his as panic attacks my sense.This is his room?
A flush creeps across my cheeks when he takes his time assessing the face I see in the large mirror behind his left shoulder. My lips have returned to their normal color; my eyes are no longer sunken from the hours I spent in the dark, and the frantic flare of my nostrils makes my nose not as slim as I despise. I look remarkably put-together for how hard my heart is raging.
My throat works hard to swallow when Asher stops to stand in front of me. “Why did he keep you hidden for so long? You always drew a crowd when you were a child, but you reached womanhood a long time ago, so why keep you segregated for as long as he did?”
Although he is asking questions, he doesn’t give me time to answer. He just circles me, the liquor I smell on his breath not affecting his long, purposeful strides.
“Your face alone will make me a fortune, but I’m torn. Should I sell your virginity to the highest bidder? Or take it for myself?”
I step back, crashing into the set of drawers filled with clothing. I don’t know what I’m scared about the most: his knowledge that I’m a virgin, or the fact he wants to profit from it. I’d say it is a combination of them both.
My lips quiver when I begin to speak, “Who said I’m a virgin? Insecurities don’t equate to saintliness.”
Hetsksagain before lifting his hand to my right cheek. “This face doesn’t belong to a whore.” He runs the back of his finger down my blooming cheek. It flames even more—more in frustration than embarrassment. “Neither do these.” His hand drops to the bud even a thick, fluffy towel can’t conceal. His tweak of my nipple sends a zap straight to my pussy, but I fight with all my might not to squeeze my knees together. “And that—” The pigheaded way he sucks in air through his nostrils adds to the scent teeming between us. “You can’t get more pure than that.”
Not willing to back down without a fight for the second time tonight, I slip past him and head for the door. I’m scared of what his response to me denying him will be, but I’m also aware of how things work in our industry. He gave me a pardon, so he can’t back down from his decision now. There’s barely a grain of integrity in the underworld, but some rules can never be dishonored; pardons being one of the frontrunners.
“You need to get your senses checked. I doubt a man as debauched as you could ever tell the difference between purity and impurity, but there is a difference. A big one.”
Some of my sass is squashed when the door handle fails to open. It’s locked—again. This time from the inside. I’m trapped in a room with a man who annihilates my smarts as much as he spikes my agitation. I should be scared; I should be fearful that he wants to claim more than just my life, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, I’m not. His arrogance frightens me, but this is about more than just superiority. It’s not even about his grief. It’s more than that; I just can’t fully comprehend it.
A whimper escapes my lips when Asher pins me to the door not even a second later. He snuck up on me so agilely, I didn’t hear his approach. He is hot and heavy against my back, his shallow breaths tickling my ear. I attempt to pull back from the door, but his strong, fit body keeps me flush with it. His hand gripping my hip is dangerously close to an area thrumming out a hearty tune, and my painfully erect nipples are dragging against the wooden panels of his door. Just as I was earlier tonight, I’m panicked by his hold, but also turned on by it.
“Do you want me to prove how I know you’re a virgin?”
Too frozen with fear and excitement to answer him with words, I shake my head.
Well, I was supposed to shake my head, but for some stupid reason, I nodded instead. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I never had the ability to say no to him when we were younger, so I don’t see why it would be any different today.
I can’t see Asher’s face, but I know he is smiling. Its heat adds to the messy situation between my legs, and I’m not going to mention my heart.
After releasing my hip from his powerful grip, he strokes his thumb over the bruise mottling my neck. Panic ignites deep inside me when he lines it up so it sits in the exact spot it was earlier tonight. When his fingers curl around my throat to clutch it in a firm, yet dominant hold, my pulse goes crazy. It’s a similar hold to the one he used in the dungeon-like room, only missing the fury of a man seconds away from killing me.
His voice echoes the one I hear in my dreams when he growls, “This would be a lot more fun if you trusted me.”
I do. I trust him.Stupidly.
He could have killed me earlier. He didn’t. Shouldn’t that award him some level of trust?
When he feels me slacken against him, he tightens his grip on my throat. My rational thinking brain demands I put up a fight, to show I’m not the naïve girl my virginity implies I am, but the other half of me, the one that has yet to experience life, keeps my feet planted, confident this exchange needs to happen. Not just for me, but Asher as well.
As quickly as he steals the air from my lungs, dampness pools between my legs. It’s a terrifying hold that should make me panic that I’m moments from asphyxiation, but for some inane reason, the last thing I’m feeling is fear.
When Asher’s other hand slides underneath the only thing attempting to maintain my dignity, his lips tickle my ear. “Will it take one stroke or two?”
