Page 11 of Break Me Beautifully
He blinks. “What?”
“Shouldn't you press ...”
Turning away, he pushes the button for his floor, making the doors close. He's acting so strange. Where has his cocky attitude gone? He almost seems scared of me. Impossible.
Wanting to test my theory, I inch closer to where he's standing. He doesn't react. Chewing my bottom lip, I reach out to touch his shoulder. He startles, spinning to regard me with wide eyes. “Sorry,” I say, holding up my hands like I'm under arrest. “You had rainwater on your coat. I was wiping it away.”
“Is that what you were doing?” he whispers, staring down his nose at me. There it is. Electric energy in his eyes, like he hates me or desires me or both. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“What makes you think that?”
“You're just acting different.” I wait for him to do something. He's just watching me. Encouraged by my theory, I take another step. He grimaces. “Are you trying not to breathe?” I ask, stunned. “You are. You're holding your breath.”
He glares at me, the scar on his lip twitching. “You don't know what you're doing, Leona.”
“I think ... I'm making you do your best to try and not react to me. Am I right?”
His eyebrows lower over hooded, wicked eyes. “I thought you were smart. Now I can see you're crazy.”
“Why? Because I'm calling you out for how you're giving yourself away?”
“That's not it.”
“Then what's going on?” I ask, advancing on him with my eyes half shut, a sensation of power I've never felt before surging in me. I've done something to make a man likehimback off. It's exhilarating. It must be how my sisters feel when they lead men around by their slobbering tongues.
Marshall sucks in air through flared nostrils, groaning in his throat. “I'll tell you the truth, sweetling. You're right. Iamtrying to hold back, but you keep pushing. Do you know what's going to happen now?”
I pull in a small, rattled breath. "What?”
His hands scoop into my hair the way they had in the car. But this time they're tight, like I'm a butterfly that could slip away if he eased up and created a small gap. He forces my head back so that I stare up into his handsome face. He isn't smiling. His lips are strained. He wants to either kiss me or devour me. “You're a reckless fool totrytempting an evil man like me. I like corrupting girls like you. It fucking exhilarates me. I just expected you'd resist me for longer than this.”
I catch our reflection in the mirrored elevator. My cheeks are red with color, lips parted. It's funny, like I'm looking at something happening to someone else.
The elevator dings. The doors start to open, he slams his hand on the button, shutting them again. He doesn't pull his eyes away from my face the entire time. "Marshall," I start to say.
His fingers move from my hair until they're curved around my soft neck, cupping my chin, his thumbs tracing just below my mouth. I shiver in anticipation. "So my issue is this." He bends down until his nose touches mine. I let out a small noise. "The way you responded to me in the car, it broke something open inside of me, Leona. Removed the barrier around me. I made an advance on you because I expected you to reject me. I was prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for you to moan like I'd run my hands between your thighs and discovered how wet you were. How wet youare.”
His fingers leave my face, smoothing down my jacket across my chest but deliberately avoiding my breasts. My blood races. He's resting his hands on my hips, going nowhere near the gap between my thighs that we both know is soaked. “Wait,” I whisper.
“Where did your boldness go?” he teases me, pushing me firmly against the mirror. “A minute ago you were egging me on. I warned you not to, but you insisted. What sort of girl challenges a devil? I've seen your art, Leona. Iknowyou know what demons seek from the gorgeous women in their grasp.”
I think about my drawings. How many are insights into my wicked fantasies? I've never had sex, but I've had a curious mind for a long while. Watching porn on my phone in the dark and using it for inspiration when I wanted to recreate the perfect couple in the throes of passion.
Imagining him looking at the more scandalous art I've shared secretly online makes me flush. It also makes my panties even wetter. “Marshall, we can't do this,” I argue faintly.
“We can.” His palm slips down to my thigh, squeezing it through my soft leggings. “We are. Spread your legs.”
I do it without hesitating. “What if someone catches us?”
“Who?” he chuckles, but when he sees my nervous face, he frowns. “This building belongs to me. No one else lives here but some of my security guards, and they'd never use this elevator. It goes to my penthouse.”
“We're really alone?”
“Not even a camera.” He motions at the inside of the elevator. “Are you done pretending you're looking for reasons not to let me kiss you?”
My eyes fix on his. “I'm not worried about kissing.”It's everything else.Before he can get my meaning, I reach up, holding his cheeks steady. On tiptoe I stretch to taste his open mouth and his surprise is delicious. A tiny moan escapes him, flowing down my throat.Thisis control. I'm instantly addicted. I want to make him melt for me, to fall to his knees, to watch him squirm.
