Page 88 of Gilded Locks

“Not wrong. It is what it is. Here we are. You called my name.” He lowered his zipper. “Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you regret it. But in that moment, as you fed your fingers into your tight heat and brought yourself to climax, it was my face you imagine. My hand. My touch. My name you whispered as you came.” He caught her ankle and hauled her to the edge of the bed. “Tell me it wasn’t and I’ll leave you be.”

She lay flat on her back, staring up at him in terror. The heat from his skin burned into hers. She couldn’t deny it. She’d touched herself, and in that moment, wished it was him. But she wanted the gentle giant from the library, not this unhinged version from her nightmares.

“Hunter, please.” She placed a staying hand on his chest, surprised when he stilled. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“Everything.” He caught her under the knees and yanked her to the edge, pulling her legs apart.

“Wait!”

“Your fear…” He growled. “I already told you it’s mine. It won’t stop me. It only edges me on. I want to taste it in your arousal when I devour you.”

“Why does it have to be scary?” She panted, desperately trying to find the man she’d witnessed in the library. “I know there’s a softer side to you.”

“A man has many sides, but at the core, we’re all hiding an inner beast. Whichever side you get, they’re all me. And when I’m done with you, you won’t know where terror ends and pleasure begins.”

Her thighs clenched involuntarily. “You said you weren’t interested.”

“I said you would beg.”

Indignant fury burned through her as she glared at him. “You had your chance.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Is that what you think?” He moved on her so fast, pinning her arms beside her head and forcing her back to arch. “Every second that you’re here, in my home, is another chance to do what I want with you.”

The fur blanket slipped off her chest, and his gaze fell like a physical caress over her breasts, tracking the drops of water that trailed from her skin. Tension filled the room, so thick she could barely breathe.

“Hunter!”

He stilled. “Say it again. Softer.”

She panted, gentling her voice, “Hunter…”

He grinned, his gaze traveling slowly over her exposed body like a hungry caress. “Look at you.” His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “Shivering. Scared. Perfect.” He was closer now, close enough that his body heat reached her. His gaze pinned her in place as much as his unbreakable hold. “Enough with this game, Lisichka. We will ease the tension so we can both breathe normally again.”

His thick accent cast an intoxicating spell on her.

“It’s better that I come to you now, while I still have a shred of control left.” He leaned over her, dragging his nose along her breast and breathing her in. “Admit that you want it, too.”

“I’m scared.”

“Yes, sometimes I even scare myself.” His gentle hand moved in complete contrast to her erratic heart. “Beg, and I’ll end all your suffering, Lisichka. Just say one pretty word, and I’ll show you things you’ve never imagined.”

The Russian endearment shouldn’t affect her. Shouldn’t make her stomach flip and her skin flush. “What’s Lisichka?”

“A clever, little fox.” His hand lifted toward her face, hovering just out of reach, then he trailed his fingers softly over her throat. “Foxes are thieves. And I think you stole my sanity today. The little I had left.”

She could feel the heat radiating from his palm, could imagine how it would feel against her skin. Rough. Warm. Possessive. The space between them crackled with possibility.

“Do you plan to hurt me?”

“Nyet, but that’s not the right question, little fox.”

He was right. She wanted to get it over with—this inevitable outcome was the only thing keeping her from fully accepting her new life. “Will there be pain?”

“Perhaps. Pain is unavoidable. It’s proof we’re alive.” He glanced down where the blanket gathered over her hips and frowned. “You’re very…petite. I’m not. Some pain is to be expected.”

She studied his dark stare, searching for hidden cruel intentions. The friction of their chemistry alone was abrading her nerves.

She’d wanted him since she left the library. Continued fantasizing about him as she washed her body clean. Then, when she touched herself, it was his face she imagined, his fingers she pictured slipping inside of her. It wasn’t an accident when she uttered his name.