Shit.
This man is going to break me. He’s going to break me in ways even his mother never accomplished and leave me scattered, bleeding, and in pieces.
Fuck him. Fuckhim.
And fuck me because I’m going to let him.
Mentally crab-walking away from the terror of that premonition, I lift my head, meeting Asad’s steady gaze and praying mine doesn’t betray the confusion and panic playing hide-and-seek in my mind.
“Thanking me for head?” My lips twist into a sardonic half smile even as I mentally envision the quickest, easiest escape path out of this room. “That has to be a new one for you.” I shrug. “Given my inexperience, it was amateurish at best, but—”
“Don’t do that.” The sharpness of his words doesn’t match his low, quiet tone. I still nearly flinch as if he’d shouted it. God, I almost wish he had. “Don’t insult me, and don’t belittle yourself. And don’t pretend that I’m not perceptive enough to understand what you did—and why you did it. You believe there’s been nothing but hate and pain between us for over a decade. And that could be true. But it’s also true that no one knows you better than me. And no one on this earth knows me more than you.”
A shudder races through me at that ominous-sounding proclamation, and denial is hot on its heels.
My lips part to tell him that’s some bullshit. But the objection won’t come.
The lie refuses to leave my tongue.
He reaches out, rubs the roughened pad of his thumb over my bottom lip in a firm caress that brands his fingerprint into my flesh.
“You knew what I needed, and you gave it to me. You and this pretty”—he presses hard against my lip, my teeth grinding into the tender flesh, a reminder of how hard pleasure and pain ride for each other—“ruin you call a mouth. A blind, foolish man would think with his dick and assume you just couldn’t wait to get you a taste. But when it comes to you, I’ve never been blind or foolish. Nah, you’ve been my dedicated field of study for years. And you got on those knees to either distract me or comfort me. And since both of us know you’d never admit to the latter, we’ll go with the first. So.” He gives my bottom lip another firm pass, then drops his arm. “You have my gratitude, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you.”
Once more, the denial becomes mired in my throat. I don’t want his gratitude, his… his unfamiliar softness. It has my survival instinct kicking me in the ribs, and screaming,Fuck fighting. Run!
But my feet are glued to the floor, and I’m stuck, trapped in uncertainty and doubt.
And curiosity.
But when it comes to you, I’ve never been blind or stupid. Nah, you’ve been my dedicated field of study for years.
What did he mean? Because if it’d been any other man, it would almost sound like he was obsessed with me. But this isn’t any other man. This is Asad Prince, my childhood bully, my tormentor, my enemy. My fiancé. The only obsession we’ve shared is hatred.
And now a burning, bottomless hunger that even now stretchesand yawns low in my belly, even though his cum just filled it moments ago.
I take a step back from him.
And immediately recognize my mistake.
His silver eyes narrow, and his chin lowers as if he scents the tangy, acidic flavor of dread emanating from my pores.
My phone vibrates against my hip, and relief washes over me in a heavy deluge. Without breaking eye contact with Asad, I reach into my suit pocket and remove the cell, touch the screen, and lift it to my ear. I don’t bother looking because I don’t give a fuck.
“Yes.”
“Ember,” Perla says, and tension snaps into my body. She knows I’m in a meeting and wouldn’t call unless it was vitally important. “When you have a minute.”
Code forGet your ass here now.
“Noted.” Ending the call and slipping the phone back into my pocket, I give Asad an insincere, small smile. “Are we done here? I’m needed back in the lab.”
“Everything good?” he asks, those too-perceptive eyes roaming over my face as if attempting to ferret out the truth.
This is me though. I earn W-2s in ain’t-shit-here-to-see face.
“Of course. Are we done?”
He closely studies me for several more seconds, then slowly nods. “Yeah, we’re done, Ember.”
