Page 98 of Cruel Pleasures

Her entire existence.

“Why, Ryu?” she presses. “You’re not getting out of this one.”

“I’d answer, but unfortunately I don’t have a clue what you’re throwing a tantrum about today.”

“You were in my room last night. Why?”

Shows how clueless you are. I’ve been in your room every night, girl.

“Sometimes, I get enjoyment out of seeing how easily I can infiltrate spaces I’m not supposed to be in,” I answer, half in jest. “You could say it was quite enjoyable infiltrating yours.”

Imani’s unamused. The wintry air ruffles her short hair, some strands strewn across her face. It takes all the discipline I have to keep from looking over and linking her gaze with mine.

Something I’ve consciously refrained from doing often.

Her eyes are too round and honest. Too frustratingly human.

Peering into Imani Makune’s eyes is like taking a look inside her. For as tough and independent as she tries to present, deep down she’s a sensitive soul searching for companionship. She wouldn’t have traveled to the Isle of Hurst seeking out her long-lost friend if she weren’t.

“I always feel like you put up a barrier,” she says, sighing. “I’m guessing you do that with everyone in your life? You stay withdrawn so you can feel detached from everyone and everything? Fair enough. But then, why continue to watch me? Follow me?”

…would it be incriminating to admit she has a point?

“I was hired to do a task,” I grit out. “I proceeded to complete that task… or attempt to until you and Hurst blew up the mission.”

“Explain last night.”

The scowl returns in full force. She’s only crept closer, crawling over the jagged rocks. At ten feet away, I can feel the aura she carries. At five feet, I can practically pick up on the notes of her perfume. Jasmine with light traces of something sweet.

My pulse wakens like that of an average man. A red-blooded male in close contact with a woman he can’t resist yet refuses to acknowledge so.

Memories of the other night flood me—visions of Imani’s curves wrapped up in the artful binding of the rope. I’d taken special care to ensure they accentuated all the right parts of her, highlighting her plump breasts and thighs. Her stomach exposed, her pussy on display for me.

I swallow and can practically taste the rope. The juices I’d sucked off it.

I can damn near feel the hard-on throbbing in my pants. I’d taken care of that too.

Later on in the night as she slept… after Hurst had tried to reclaim her.

Immediate agitation had streaked through me. It was like I no longer had control. I was no longer the disciplined lurker I thought of myself as; I was no better than Hurst, driven by wild human emotions and urges like lust.

The thought I’d taken her away drove him to sneaking into her room that night. The same level of irrational possessiveness made me lurk in the shadows and wait for him to leave so I could take her back yet again.

It doesn’t even matter that Hurst doesn’t know. I do.

That’s more than enough.

“Ryu. Tell me,” Imani mutters. She’s stepped over more rocks to close the distance between us.

I sense it before it happens—Imani losing her balance on a sharp serrated rock. Her foot slips and her hands fly out. Her face flattens in immediate alarm as she tries to steady herself but loses her balance anyway.

I’m quick on the uptake. One second I’m planted firmly on one of the larger rocks. The next, I’ve flown over to catch her. My arms slip between her underarms. Her back falls up against my front, her entire body like a weighted blanket.

A sensation I could get used to. That would be even more enjoyable in the context of being in bed together.

I set her right, back onto her feet.

“Watch where you step,” I scold. “You could’ve cracked your head on one of these rocks.”