“I’m terrified too,” he admits. “Except, I’m afraid if I make the wrong move, you’ll run from me again.”
I swallow.
“I’d give you anything you asked for, even if it was space. I told you I’d make the world bow at your feet if you wanted it. But you keep telling me you want to do that on your own, and so I’ll let you.” He steps back and then around to face me. “How about we play a game? You can test me. Maybe it’ll help you see how much control you have over me. Ask me for anything and I swear I’ll obey.”
My eyebrows rise as I consider this proposition. “How long does this deal last for?”
“Forever.”
I snort a laugh, but his expression tells me he’s entirely serious. I swallow down another wave of uncertainty.
“Tell me to do something. I’ll do it. Anything.”
“If I were to tell you to kill Auren?”
“I’d do it.”
My lips part but then I shake that thought from my head.
“But I imagined this game going a bit differently. I have handcuffs and chains if you wanted to test my willingness to be submissive.” His lips curl into a smug smile as my eyes widen.
“You’re serious?” I ask, voice cracking.
There’s a challenge in his stare.
“Fine,” I say defiantly. Let’s play this game, then. “Take off your shirt.”
His jaw clenches, eyes turning fully black, and I’m suddenly very happy we agreed not to cross a very solid line tonight. His fingers quickly make work of the buttons down his front, and then he sheds the thin material. It flutters to the floor. Snowflakes stick to the material almost immediately.
My gaze roves over his body hungrily. Dammit, he’s fit. Forget six packs; eight packs are the new thing. His skin is golden brown, and I long to run my hands over the ridges of his chest and stomach.
“Can I make a request?” he asks with an amused smile.
I put my hands on my hips, and he smiles. “Yes?”
“It’s a bit chilly out here for much more nudity.”
“You said you’d obey me,” I chide. “If I want you to strip down and do snow angels—”
He chuckles. “I’d do it, but that doesn’t mean I’d enjoy it. This is a request, not a command.”
I press my lips together to hide the grin creeping up.
I grab his wrist and lead him back inside.
Somehow, in here, the game feels more real. More intense. Probably the fact that his black silk bed sheets are staring at me judgingly.
“Show me your magic,” I command.
Jarron blinks, for the first time unsure. “Anything in particular?”
I shrug.
He peers around the room then stops on a glass of water beside his bed. He holds out his hand, and the water rises from the cup into the air. He pulls his fingers into a fist, and the water condenses in a swirling orb and drifts toward us.
His hand flings open again, and I flinch. But nothing happens. I open my eyes to find myself surrounded by little drops of water. Like rain suspended in air.
I breathe deeply. The little drops glitter in the candlelight. “Beautiful,” I whisper.
