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Little girl got herself a spine over the break.
“Let go of my hand.”
Using that very hand, I drag her closer until our lips are a hair’s breadth away.
Her dark eyes widen, pupils blown out, in fear or lust I don’t know. “Don’t touch me without my permission.”
I huff. “Ironic, that. You were about to touch me without mine.”
“You deserve it. You may be a king at Empire Academy,” she grinds out, “but you don’t own me.”
In a silky tone, I contradict her, “Oh, but how wrong you are on both counts. I am the king and I do own you. Test me, girlie, and I’ll have you over my lap in a heartbeat.”
God, would I love that.
Scandalized, she tosses her head and yanks her hand hard.
I tighten my hold.
“Let go of me,” she grits out between clenched teeth.
I get back into her face. Another whiff of sweet dark cherries glides over me, but I fight the urge to taste her, and reply, “No.”
Her chest flutters up and down, almost heaving. Our gazes clash.
She shakes her fragile wrist, manacled between my long fingers.
I stand firm.
She shifts from foot to foot and rolls her eyes. “Are you done already?”
“Not yet,” I snap back.
“I could break you, you know,” I say softly. Soft, but menacing.
Her lashes flutter, her only reaction. But it’s enough. I’ve stood close to her long enough. Star may normally be demure and quiet, but she’s a lethal combination of strength and innocence, all wrapped up in the body of a siren. A man like me would devour her tempting innocence raw. I’d tear at it and crush it between my jaws till it’s been ground up and spit out.
I savor one last beat of heaven before I release her and step away. The move is so fast, she wobbles in my absence. I wait for her to regain her footing and then ask for her phone.
She blows out a sigh from her full, suckable lips and grabs it from the side pocket of her over-sized joggers, encasing a tight ass the shape of peaches. I should know, I’ve stared at it enough times.
She opens her phone and shoves it into my open hand.
I call myself and put my number in her contacts.
Handing it back to her, I angle my head toward the front door and say, “Now get out of here.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice.
She hitches her backpack over her shoulder and rushes out the front door without a second glance, like the prey she is. Light glints off the many buttons pinned to her backpack just before she disappears.
Star always was the smartest girl in the class.
I see some things haven’t changed.
CHAPTER4
STAR
