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My shorts are soaked with my arousal, the insides of my thighs warm and sticky from it. I’m not sure if he’s noticed I’m not wearing anything beneath my flimsy top and shorts yet, but he’s one flick of his wrist away from exposing me and finding out.
I shouldn’t want him to.
So why do I find myself pushing into him more?
“Little liar.” His voice is harsh, like I’m being reprimanded.
Heat stirs in my chest, wanting to tell him off for calling me that. But at the same time, I don’t care what he calls me as long as he keeps touching me.
Gods, I need to get it together.
“No,” I snap, shaking my head. “I’m not afraid of you.”
The blade flicks across my stomach, not yet cutting my shorts. He grins, and my heart leaps to my throat. Oh, fuck.
“Wrong answer.”
His finger curls in my shorts, causing the band to dig into my waist as he pulls me tighter to him. His dark eyes seem to shine as he takes me in, looking as if he wants to consume me.
A throb echoes between my legs at the thought.
He looms closer, and I fear what he is thinking when he dips his head. He drags his tongue up my neck, a violent shivering wracking my body as my legs tighten together. That mixed with the threat of his blade pulls a whimper from my throat, a plea for more.
His lips brush against the shell of my ear. “You taste of fear, darling.”
My heart is in my throat as he chuckles, pulling back to look at me, and my brain finally starts to catch up with my actions. I don’t quite register as my body goes into protective mode, taking a step back, and he lets me. The band of my shorts pops against the throbbing scratch he left across my stomach, and delicious heat coils in my stomach.
I put enough distance between us, though, that his touch is no longer blocking all rational thought. I finally realize just how foolish my actions are now that I’m not drunk on the feeling of him.
He could have gutted me, and I would have let him.
“Afraid now?” He cocks an eyebrow and spins the blade in his hand.
I open my mouth to answer –
And turn on my heel, darting out of the kitchen. His laughter booms behind me, shattering the silence of the manor and nearly covering the sound of my bare feet slapping against the cold stone hallway.
I skid into my open room, slamming the door behind me and pressing my back to it as I fumble with the lock. Even then, I don’t feel safe, my eyes searching the space as I look for a way for him to have materialized in here.
When I confirm I’m alone – even Echo isn’t in here – I start to relax. I don’t hear any footsteps coming after me, nor the taunts that I would expect from him.
Slowly, I peel myself away from the door and let out a deep exhale that bows my body. The weight of what just happened pushes down on me, and I realize belatedly that I’m still parched.
“Fuck that guy,” I groan as I cross the room, weariness lining my bones even though I know that exhaustion is going to evade me.
I collapse onto the bed, still warm from mine and Echo’s body. The blankets are instantly suffocating, though, and I kick them down to the end of the bed, needing the cool night air. It toys with my exposed stomach, and I shift, trying to find a comfortable spot in the bed.
All I want is to go to sleep and forget this ever happened, but with every shift, my nipples brush against the only fabric still held in place and that throb between my legs starts up again. I try to stifle it as I flop onto my stomach, but the liquid between my legs and the dark gaze that flashes behind my eyes won’t let me.
“He’s fucking haunting me,” I huff into my pillow, rolling over again.
This time, though, I don’t manage to push the mysterious man out of my mind. Instead, I reach down, my fingers finding the thin red line adorning my skin. The slight ache only turns me on – something I didn’t even know about myself – and I find my fingers drifting lower as I reach my shorts.
My eyes flutter closed, and I’m picturing him again, his knife on my skin and his finger hooked in my shorts. Except this time, it’s different.
“These need to go,” I hear his dark, commanding voice say. I trail my hand down underneath my shorts as I imagine him cutting them away from my body. A grin tugs at his lips. “Better.”
The knife trails lower, lighting my skin on fire even as I imagine it, and I wish that he was here right now, kneeling between my legs.
