Page 14 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

Laughing, he leaned in closer to her and kissed her temple. “I didn’t even know they had powder out your way.”

She almost flinched away from his lips. They were too hot, and he was too close. He must have fed recently. And a lot, by the feel of it. “You’d be surprised. Not much else to do out there, except get drunk and high.”

“Well, I’ll let her know. She’ll bring a selection, I’m sure.

” He began to run his thumb back and forth over her shirt on her shoulder.

The heat was still there, even through the extra layer.

“Should I worry about you going too far with anyone? She does love to bring all of her pretty friends along.”

“I—I mean. I did warn you I wasn’t a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking?—”

He barked a laugh, squeezing her closer to him briefly. “No, no…trust me. I do not do well with breakable things.”

The knot in her stomach cinched tighter at his insinuation.

“But I would very much rather you not get in the mix with Lana or any of her associates if you can help it. I’m sure you understand why I’d rather my future wife not have a history with anyone too close.” Those red eyes were watching her again. “It just gets needlessly dramatic.”

“Another good reason to stay off the powder.” She smiled, though it was wavering and didn’t last long. “And I’ll do my best.”

“What, no promise?”

“I don’t know what I’m up against.” Chuckling, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t very well promise if I’m not certain. But I promise to try my best.”

“Smart girl.” Her fingers were replaced by his in her hair. “Because if you break your promises to me, I will have to punish you…”

There was that knot in her stomach again, twisting and turning like a bag of snakes.

She knew exactly what he was threatening her with.

She had a choice—play shy or surprise him.

Resting her hand on his thigh, she shot him a wry smile of her own.

“Something tells me, you’ll find a reason to punish me no matter what I do. ”

The look on his face made her heart skip a beat for a reason she couldn’t understand. It was equal parts shock and like a wild dog being shown a platter of fresh, raw meat. The sudden hunger in his expression made her want to shrink away from him. She’d just thrown gasoline on a fire.

“Pretty, tasty thing…” He cupped her chin in his hand. His lips were hovering close to hers. “Teaching me to adjust my expectations for what cattle country has to offer.”

The heat of his nearness, the feeling of his breath against her skin, gave her goosebumps and a shiver of cold despite the warmth of him. She had no response. No words she could form. Nothing she could think of to say. She had made an unexpected move on the board—but he was still winning.

“I suppose…” His voice was a dark, dusky purr. “I could make sure I get to have you first…I’ve been trying to be a good boy—trying to keep my hands off you until we’re married. But, fuck if you aren’t testing me to my limits.”

He wanted her. The realization sent another roll of electricity through her body. He wanted her. Her. A fae whose life he ruined.

Nadi had spent her life being invisible. Unknown. Someone else. Literally and figuratively.

To have those red eyes boring into her, seeing through her, with such starving need? She didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know how to respond.

She didn’t know how to contend with her own smoldering fire.

This was wrong.

This was dangerous.

This was going to get her into a lot of trouble.

Of all the things she expected to have happen to her…She knew she’d likely have to fuck him—or more aptly, let him fuck her—she wasn’t a moron. But she had expected to suffer through it. Go through the motions. Fake it the best she could.

This?

This wasn’t okay.

Her hand tightened on his thigh reflexively. She needed something to hold onto for dear life. Even if it was the source of all her problems.

“Careful…” He tilted her head back, exposing her throat. He bent his head down to kiss the line of the tendon in her neck. It was almost scalding, it was so hot. “I don’t do well being teased, pretty thing.”

Her eyes slid shut of their own accord. The words that left her were almost a breathless whisper. “Ivan’s right there.”

“He’s seen much, much more than this,” Raziel murmured.

His hand slid into her hair to cradle the back of her head, as he slowly kissed her throat.

His teeth grazed her skin before he nipped her with his fangs, causing her to jolt in surprise.

His chuckle was…well, there was only one word for it.

Evil. “I’d ask if you want him to join in, but I don’t like to share my toys until I’m done breaking them in. ”

“Is that what I am to you?” She meant it to sound strong. Instead, it came out just the same as before—heavy with need and confusion.

“Everyone is a toy to me, pretty thing.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze, his red eyes seeming to flicker like firelight. “Everyone.”

“A breakable toy.”

“Precisely.” His hand in her hair tightened into a fist, pulling the strands just enough to make her hiss from the sudden sting.

But she didn’t push him away. Her hand tensed on his thigh, digging her fingers into his skin.

She needed to keep his attention. She needed to earn his trust—his respect.

And there was only one way to do it. Fixing him with as defiant a stare as she could manage, she smiled, with just a hint of her own wickedness. “You can do better than that.”

“You can do better than that.”

The words ran through him like molten lava. Lit every nerve of Raziel’s body on fire. Her bright green eyes regarded him with something he had never, ever experienced before.

Contempt.

Daring.

And almost, perhaps, a little bit of arrogance . But painted over with such sweet and beautiful lust.

She wanted him.

Desperately.

He knew that. He knew he was beautiful. He knew people desired him for his looks. But very few ever wanted him for everything else he brought to the table. A few whose curiosities got the better of them would come to him, begging to experience a night or three with him. But no one stayed.

No one lasted.

No one ever looked at him and challenged him in such a foolhardy way. The pretty thing was out of her league. Likely doing her best to flirt with a man whose darkness ran far, far deeper than she could possibly know.

It was that realization that shook him loose. That snapped the moment like an icicle. She didn’t mean her words—she didn’t know what she was talking about. She was goading on a wild stallion thinking he was some tame, neutered workhorse.

She thought she was playing with matches.

He was an inferno.

“Hm. I can. But not today.” He let go of her and stood. She looked stunned at his absence. He had to shift himself slightly with his back to her to keep from making an obvious and embarrassing display of just how riled up she had made him.

Which, points to her, he supposed. That didn’t happen much. Well, not from something so benign , at any rate. There was something to be said for teasing, for not scratching every itch and fulfilling every urge right away.

“You should get some rest. You’re going to have a very long night.” He walked away from her without a second glance. “And do try not to fuck my sister, will you?”

“Y—yeah,” came her uncertain reply.

Heading indoors, he waved Ivan away as his bodyguard went to follow him. He wanted to be alone. He needed a moment to think. Damn her. Damn this Monica to the void. His arousal would not go away. It wouldn’t stop. And it was getting downright painful.

Locking the door to his room behind him, he stripped naked and headed into the bathroom.

Starting the shower, he set the water to as hot as his boiler could manage—and he had it set ridiculously high.

The steam filled the room with a fog by the time he stepped into the stream.

The walls were made of dark, river rock tiles in uneven shades and patterns.

The texture of them bit into his hands as he pressed his palms against the surface, lowering his head to let the hot water pour over him.

Get a hold of yourself.

But his mind flashed to an image of her on her knees in his shower, gazing up at him with those beautiful green eyes. He didn’t picture a woman begging for his attention. He didn’t dream of a broken thing, desperate for his touch.

No.

He saw that challenge. That dare. That sheer contempt mixed with a need as great as his own.

“ You can do better than that. ”

Gripping his length in his hand, he surrendered to it. He imagined it was her, touching him. Her, fawning over him, goading him on. Taunting him and begging for him. Challenging his dominion. His control. His power.

Where did she get the nerve? The balls ? She didn’t understand who she was dealing with. But he was going to show her soon enough. Just a few short days, and she would learn precisely who she had been tormenting.

Growling low, he quickened his strokes, his body tingling in ecstasy. She wouldn’t last a night with him. She wouldn’t last an hour. She was mistaking a tiger for a house cat.

This was temporary.

“ You can do better than that. ”

Letting out a muffled, furious roar of release, he pounded his fist into the wall, not caring for how the edges dug into his skin.

Yes, Monica. I can do better than that.

And you’re going to wish you’d kept your pretty mouth shut.