Page 81 of How Does It Feel?

My stupid body ached with the delusion of wishing he were touching me. What would it feel like to have the harsh, unfeeling man fall apart just because he touched me? Simple me.

Even the pain he had caused as he cleaned my wounds had somehow felt carnal and erotic. Like there was a forbidden layer of pain-laced pleasure I had never experienced.

The formidable prince of death had knelt on the ground before me. I would have given anything to know the last time he had knelt before anyone—and given them his bedding. He acted as someone would who had begun to care about me.

That was a foolish thought considering he was determined to kill me.

This was stupid to think about. I needed to get out of here before it was too late. If I couldn’t get to my family in time—

The hairs along the back of my neck rose as a presence loomed behind me.

Cool air hit the back of my exposed thighs, and I remembered the tiny blue nightgown I had slept in. I went to roll over, realizing that my whole lower half had exposed itself. Strong hands pushed down my head, stopping me from flipping onto my back. The action caused me to pin my arms under the blanket they had been holding as a pillow.

“Get the fuck away from me, Mendax!” I muffled through the fabric.

I knew it was him simply by the way my skin seemed to tingle in his presence. I could feel his hand like a magnet above the skin of my ass, even though he didn’t touch it.

“Say it again,” he rasped, his voice thick and husky.

“What!?” I rebuked as my heart rate quickened. I struggled against the hand that gently held my head down against the blanket.

I shifted up on my knees to gain leverage, my ass high in the air before I realized what I had done.

He was absolutely unhinged. A dark and deranged man who enjoyed slaughtering others and . . . and touching me. I had felt the proof of his hard arousal last night.

Trembles slithered up my spine at the horribly enticing thought.

“Say my name again.” His deep voice rumbled as his hand ghosted my butt lightly.

Goose bumps trailed my skin, chasing after his hand.

“Fuck you!” I shouted, attempting to cover up a breathy gasp.

He was pushing my head just enough that I was stuck but not enough that I had any trouble breathing into the fluffy comforter.

“Say it, Callie. I want to hear the way it sounds from your filthy mouth.”

I felt his hot breath on the back of my ass cheek. I could feel his body towering over mine.

My face flared red at the vision he was seeing. My entire backside was exposed and raised to the gods, with only a tiny black triangle of fabric covering my center.

I knew I was skating the line, but I was at war with myself between kicking him in the face and learning what my words really did to him.

“Fuck you, Mendax!” Why was I so out of breath?

“Very good girl,” he rumbled as his rough hand ran up the inside of my thigh, feathering where the seam of my panties rested.

I gasped, biting my lip so hard I tasted copper as my eyes fluttered shut. I pushed my head harder against the blanket to make certain he heard nothing.

“Your flesh is the softest thing I have ever felt,” he said breathily almost to himself. “Tell me why you want me dead, little lamb? Don’t be shy with me. I quite like the fire that you attempt to mask.”

“For the last fucking time! I’m not trying to kill you! God! I’m pretty sure I would be doing a better job than this if I were!” I shouted.

How stupid was this man?

His hand skated across my most sensitive parts, softly feeling the silk triangle.

I knew he could feel my desire dampening the fabric even as I bit the other side of my lip to stop myself from letting out an unwelcome moan.