Page 24 of His Darkest Obsession

"How?” I whisper. “Should I hold your hand?"

My hand on his torso starts to move down, and I feel his muscles tense beneath my touch.

"Show affection to you in public?" My fingers brush the buckle of his belt, and I can feel his heart thudding in the space between us.

His jaw clenches.

"Laugh at your jokes?" I let my hand drift lower, past his belt. "Even the bad ones?"

A sharp inhale. His hands clench at his sides.

Satisfaction curls through me. Power thrums in my veins—a heady rush that makes me feel drunk.

Because even though he’s holding close to him and refusing to let go,I'mthe one in control.

And for once,Iget to decide how far this goes.

"Well?" I press closer, letting my body mold against his. "Aren’t you going to answer me?"

He responds by resting his other hand on the small of my back, and my heart starts racing again. Heat pools in my belly as his fingers around my wrist tighten ever so gently, sending delicious bursts of fire pulsing in their wake.

And I realize just how close we are.

Wait…

His head dips down towards mine, and my lips part without my permission. My breath catches in my throat.

No. No. This isn't how this is supposed to go.

But I can't move. Can't think. Can't breathe. All I can focus on is how close his lips are to mine, how his chest feels pressed up against me, how my hand is still?—

Oh God.

Reality crashes back into me like a bucket of ice water. I'm pressed up against him, hand practicallycuppinghim while he holds me close. Somehow in my attempt at getting a rise out of him, he’s turned the tables on me! And nowI'mthe one getting excited.

Damn it!

Frustration and confusion war inside my chest, mixing with the heat that refuses to die down. My skin feels too tight, my clothes too constricting, and worst of all… Iwanthim to kiss me.

But I won’t let him win.

With what little control I still have over myself, I ball my hand into a fist and whip it against his balls before things can go any further.

He grunts in surprise and his hands let me go, and I use his momentary shock to free myself from him, forcing my voice to stay steady and cold.

"Was that convincing enough for you?" I hiss.

I turn around to walk away, but his hand snatches a fistful of my hair and yanks me back. A yelp escapes my lips as my back collides with his chest, I can feel him—hot and hard and throbbing—against me.

Warmth warps around me like a blanket of fire, and before I can do or say anything else, his fist in my hair yanks my head back. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind me that I’m stillhisprisoner as I look up at him.

His eyes meet mine and there's a smirk on his lips.

A shiver runs down my spine.

"Careful when you play dirty,printsessa."

He holds up his palm in front of my face so that I can see the clear crescent mark where my teeth broke his skin back at my apartment.