Page 60

A neck worth breaking

If no one’s waiting

So why should you hold on?

His intoxicating voice is a rough caress on my senses, reaching out to me, intertwining us from across the room. I see only red, bubbling up from within. I let out a whimper at the pulsing need inside me. What the fuck was in that drink?

He pivots at the sound that he couldn’t possibly have heard, his captive eyes locking immediately with my desperate ones, sticks in the air, the beat ripped from the room. Dammit. I beg my legs to move, to walk away. It doesn’t matter that he’s gorgeous, that simply looking at him makes me wet—he’s an asshole…an obnoxious, self-serving, underwear-stealing, irresistible-as-fuck asshole.With feelings.

My breaths are uneven. There’s no blood left in my brain for decision making; it’s all between my thighs. I’ve already walked away from a free pass out of here, and now, even worse, I silently beg for his embrace.

It must work because he drops the sticks on the floor with a clatter and prowls toward me. I squeeze my legs together, trying to stop the throbbing, but it makes it worse—or better. I don’t know anymore, but I can’t let this man touch me. I can’t wantsomeone who takes away my freedom. The same freedom I just left behind.

Eli’s eyes remain locked with mine as he approaches. It takes everything in me not to tackle him to the floor once he’s within reach. To hurt him…or feel him under me—one of those. And then I see it. The raw desire in his eyes, the black of his pupils eclipsing the brown. The hard angle of his tightened jaw. The twitch of his juicy, red-tinted lower lip.

Every thought betrays me.

All the back-and-forth in me goes flooding in one direction. I give in. I don’t care about the darkness. Or that it’s all physical and nothing more, that every thought and feeling is driven by redness. That’s exactly what I need—to forget, to escape.

He steps closer, and my entire body is thirsty for him, utterly parched and withering without his hands on me, caressing, exploring, devouring my need.

He shoves me out the doorway, his arms outstretched, cold hands squeezing my shoulders, and drives me right straight across the hall and into the stone wall. I stifle a gasp. My face flushes, warmth crawling over my skin. Damn traitorous body, loving every fucking touch.

Whichever man writes me notes, aches for his father and plays the drums—he’s long gone. And this man stands in his place, his gaze so intense it splits me apart. And I want that intensity. I want him up against me, taking me, breaking me.

His hands slide from my shoulders to my upper arms, flattening them against the rough stone. He tastes me with his eyes. All the suggestive talk suddenly feels too real. I don’t dare say a word, don’t dare break the spell. But he dares.

“What are you doing wandering the halls of my castle?”

“I…”

“Feeling a littlered, are you?” He smirks knowingly.

You mean turned on? About to knock you down, tear off my clothes and grind on your face? Yes.

“No.” I shake my head, maybe a little too vigorously.Not a single bit of feeling. Or swelling. Or dripping down my thighs. No.

“Eventhisis more real than the rest,” he says, shades of bitterness behind each word.

“The rest of what?” I whisper.

“It doesn’t matter. Everything you feel is a lie.”He rolls his shoulder as if to rid himself of his own thoughts. His arms bend, and he’s the closest yet. “I still owe you a consequence. And fuck do I want to give it to you right now.”

Please do.“I didn’t talk.”

“No?” His brows quirk up.

“I screamed.”

“You screamed my name, little prisoner.”

My knees give out, and I hang in his grasp, pinned to the wall. Then his face shifts. Two little lines appear between his eyes, and my escape slips away. Fear and fury take over his desire. He steps back from me, throwing his hands behind his head and grabbing fistfuls of hair, torment etched across his face.

“Back to your nook.” He leads me down the hall and around the corner by my ear, and without a glance at the dropped jaw on my dumbstruck face, he locks the cell door and stomps away, back to his dark, collapsing room.

I’m left panting, thirsty, empty—a bubbly red fool.

Chapter