The breath I pull into my lungs weighs me down. It sizzles in the air around us, charged with an intensity that seeps through my skin, goosebumps rippling all the way up my back. My back rolls, and my ass pushes against him involuntarily.
I swallow my apology when I hear him suck in a breath.
“Would you have done it?” I blurt out, rolling my eyes at myself. “Would you have really killed me?”
“If you were a threat to me or The Sanctum, yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.” His bluntness sends shivers down my spine.
“And you’ve decided I’m not a threat.” I purposefully phrase it as a statement, not a question. Maybe it’s wishful thinking for the sake of self-preservation.
“You made me promise not to kill you.”
That’s definitely not what I needed to hear, and I tense further.
“So, you do think I’m a threat.”
“Only tonight, I found out it was you who stole from me, infiltrated my business, and invaded my home. I don’t know why yet. You tell me,kitten, are you a threat?”
His hand tightens on my shoulder, body pressing more firmly against mine, and with his cock hard against my ass, I can’t fucking think straight. I imagine him ripping the blanket away and sinking his length so far between my ass cheeks that I scream louder than this storm from the hedonistic intrusion.
Fuck, I can’t think straight!
With a clumsy, rushed turn, I face him. His arm is still wrapped around me, palm now laid on my back, and if I thought I couldn’t think straight before, well...this was a big mistake. Flames dance through his devilish eyes, making his carved cheekbones harsher in this light, and...the blanket no longer separates us.
He holds my stare. I hold his.
My breath stalls in my lungs. The warm tip of his cock twitches against my belly.
The stove must have warmed up the cabin because my skin grows damp. And deep between my joined thighs, it turns...slippery.
“I’m not a threat to you,” I whisper, but it comes out breathy.Needy.
Carter’s empty eyes remain unchanged. Unaffected. And slight disappointment prickles in my chest.
“And my Sanctum?” Right there, in his low, smoky tone of voice, I can hear that he’s not all that unaffected.
“It was never about them. But you already knew that,” I murmur.
No answer comes, but in his eyes, I notice a spark that has nothing to do with the flames.
“You ruined my last plan,” I tell him.
“How? You successfully stole my violin.”
I uncross my arms tucked tight to my chest and lay one hand over his waist, reveling in the noticeable hitch in his breath and the goosebumps suddenly peppering his skin.
“I may be a thief, but I wasn’t going to keep the things I stole from you. You were supposed to come after me at my house. Not here. But you figured out the puzzle much faster than I thought you would.”
“I’m a pretty smart guy,” he says with a sinful smirk that makes me even wetter.
“Clearly.”
“And what then? At your house?”
“We would have hashed it out over a glass of exquisite wine. Talked about how exciting this little game has been. I would have convinced you to stop this nonsense about killing me. And we would have called a truce while enjoying a nice swim in my pond. I have a very nice pond.” I flutter my eyebrows, grinning suggestively.
