Page 22 of His to Burn

He stopped so abruptly, I slammed into his back.

A whimper clawed up my throat before I could choke it down.

He didn’t flinch.

Just stood there, rigid, listening.

Then he spun so fast, it sent an icy panic racing down my spine.

His hands slammed into my shoulders, pushing me back into the wall.

I gasped, the sound like an explosion.

He snarled. “Quiet.”

The sound rolled out of his chest both threat and command.

Something slick and awful twisted through me again, and I squeezed my thighs tight like I could smother it there.

Like I could hide it from him.

But there was nowhere to hide.

His gaze dropped to my pulse, which thumped frantically against my throat.

He pressed, touching me like he had the right to.

Like he dared me to pull away.

I looked around wildly, searching for rescue that some part of me knew wouldn’t come.

“Look at me.”

God, I didn’t want to.

Didn’t want him to see how close I was to breaking.

But I did anyway, locking my eyes on his.

“You’re scared,” he said, his tone rich with amusement.

Shame wasn’t the only thing that hit me.

That shame was tinged with a different kind of heat.

A heat that only intensified when he leaned in, his lips close enough to brush my ear.

“Keep that pretty mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you.”

Defiance tried to rear its head. I met his gaze, and he kept his eyes on mine waiting for my surrender.

Surrender that came far too quickly.

I saw the instant he recognized it, looking away when I saw the flash of a satisfied smile.

“Now move.”

Before I could speak, he walked again.