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Adrían was kind since day one.
A man like Lavigne knew only how to respond to antagonism. He fed on the expectation that he would be challenged. Also, if what he’d said was true and he’d never abducted a woman before her, she would use that to her advantage.
She sat up and shifted on the bed until she was in front of him, looking up into his eyes. Her biggest mistake would have been treating this man like a demon and expecting to win a battle against his years of experience as the devil.
He was physically stronger. That wouldn’t change in the next day, month, or year. So, she would aim for his mind.
“Siriano,” she looped her hands around his waist, “let me show you how good it can be. I don’t want you to hurt me, and you want it to be good.”
He searched her eyes.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she paced her breathing to prevent spewing up the vomit knocking on the walls of her stomach.
“Have you ever been kissed?” she asked.
He snorted. “I’m not your virgin lover.”
“That’s not what I…” She slid her hand beneath the pillow at her side and then rose onto her knees, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Can I kiss you? Can I try that, at least?”
He didn’t answer.
“I swear, if you don’t hurt me, I’ll behave.”
“You think I’m an idiot?” he spat.
“I don’t want any more pain or ice water, Siriano. I fucking hate it.”
His eyes flashed.
“I’ll do whatever you ask to make it stop.” She brushed his lips with hers and pulled back. “How’s that?”
His gaze fell to her mouth. “You must really like dangerous men.”
“I think it’s because I spent so much of my life feeling unsafe.” She leaned in again, kissing him a little harder. “Better?”
Again, he looked down at her mouth.
“Oh.” She smiled. “I know what I’m doing wrong. You’re French.” She moved her hand to the back of his head, flicked his lips with her tongue, and stopped. “Hmm. This is…interesting.”
“What is?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.”
He gripped her waist. “Bitch, answer the fucking question.”
“I don’t know how. I think…did it feel good for you, or am I crazy?” She flicked again. “I should probably stop. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why would I…”
She probed at his sealed lips until he groaned, tightening his hold on her.
“What would make it better?” She probed again. “Your lips are soft. Did you do something to me?”
“Like what?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but...I think I might be crazy. This isn’t how I saw this going.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, and he started to close his eyes but flung them open. “Siriano, I don’t want any more ice. I hate the ice, but this isn’t what I thought it would be.”
She reached between them and stroked his weird cock.
His lips parted.
