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She’s dreaming about me.
Me.
Alizedoesknow that she’s mine, even in her dreams. Even her anger isn’t enough to poison what we have.
My heart is still pounding with rage and lust, the blood in my veins still white-hot. But my anger has changed shape, it’s suffocating me and there’s only one way to get rid of it.
I have to claim her.
SEVENTEEN
ALIZE
Alexander’s handscaress my body, his lithe fingers dipping between my legs to touch the molten heat building in my core. My body trembles in response, and I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders, forcing our lips together.
“Oh, Alexander,” I breathe, kissing him with everything I have.
His sweet tongue parts my lips, invading my mouth. Our tongues clash in a war of wills, even as his fingers slip between my legs. I moan against his lips, and his other hand grips the back of my neck.
“I’ve fucking missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbles between our sloppy kisses. “I’ve missed this.”
I nod, arching against the wall and rolling my hips as his fingers work my core. His huge body has me pressed against the wall, and already I’m itching to slip out of my clothes. To feel his skin against mine as his cock fills me to my limit.
He curls his fingers inside me, his thumb finding my sensitive spot. Pleasure shoots through my body and goosebumps prickle my skin. My nipples are sensitive points, the fabric of my shirt like sandpaper against them—I want his soft mouth to soothe them.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?”
I nod, falling deeper. “Yes, I am.”
“What do you want from me?”
I want you to fuck me, please.
But I don’t say it. I open my eyes to find that Alexander’s aren’t blue like I remember. They are a vast, dark depth. Soulless.These are the eyes of a traitor, I hear myself think. The eyes of a man who doesn’t love me.
He never did.
My eyes snap open, just in time to see the shadow hovering over me. A pair of strong arms grab me by the shoulders. For a millisecond, I think it’s another fucked up Hemlock House thing.
But I’m not in Hemlock House anymore.
A scream tears from my throat. I’m in Kingmaker House. Terror and panic grips my chest, thinking of all the murderous glares I got from the guys on the lawn when I first got here. The hands pull me closer to them, just as I reach under my pillow to grab my knife.
I won’t be going down without a fight.
My eyes adjust just as I slash out at the person. The groan that fills the room is familiar, as is the figure when I can finally see who it is.
Alexander.
My heartbeat is all over my skin, still a livewire from the dream I just had. My core throbs in time to my heartbeat, and desire is wound tight in my belly. I caught him in the chest—a huge, bloody gash appears by his breast bone.
In the wan light, I can see the glimmer in his blue eyes.
He looks down at his bleeding skin, then back at me. His lips twist into a grin.
“Is that a knife?” His voice is deep and husky. “Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?”
My side is pressed up against his abdomen, and he’s partially crouched over my body. The audacity in his voice, just how calm he can be even though I have a knife and he hasno fucking weaponinfuriates me. He forces himself forward, pushing me against the bed.
