Finally, he pulls back, resting his head on my shoulder.
“Something wrong?” I ask, trying not to sound hopeful.
He meets my eyes and grins. “I’m just trying to control myself because I’m struggling not to push you out of your comfort zone.”
Not the words I’d expect of a mark.
I search his face for a hint of pain. “Are you well?”
“Never been better. But your lips look quite dark, love. Are you getting enough air?”
I shrug. “It happens when I kiss someone.” Neither a lie nor the whole truth.
He scrubs a hand over his face, looking away before meeting my eyes again. “We don’t have to do more.”
“Don’t go soft on me now,” I tease.
He barks a startled laugh. “I promise I’m the very opposite of soft right now.” He tips my head back and kisses me softly. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
I grip his collar and drag his mouth to mine. This must be whatpeople mean by a spark; I feel like my whole body is on fire, and even though I’ve been told this man is a brutal predator, I don’t care.
He grabs my thighs, and I thread my arms around his neck, and he carries me over to the bed, sitting on the edge with me in his lap. I summon as much poison as I can and push it into him, nipping at his lip until I taste blood.
He kisses me back harder, thinking it’s just passion driving me instead of a desire to kill him. The sweet poison mixes with the iron and salt in my mouth.
I shove him back on the bed and stare down at him. He’s grinning up at me like I’ve hung the moon, his lips streaked with blood.
He rolls us over so I’m beneath him, and my dress bunches up to my waist, baring my dark red garters. He groans as he takes in the sight of them, running his fingers over the patch of skin between the top of my thigh-high stockings and the lace of my underwear. Holding my eye, he bends and places a kiss on the skin there. He grins at the bloody mark left on my thigh. Then, he bites the soft, pale skin, and a pleasant anticipatory shiver tears through me. I want more.
Reality slams into me. This man is an abuser who is somehow immune to my magic. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.
He must see something in my eyes. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I jump to my feet, smoothing my dress back in place, and he sits up.
“Hey, whoa. It’s okay, we don’t have to go any further. I didn’t mean to?—”
My eyes dart to the door, and he launches off the bed, hands up like he’s approaching a frightened animal. This is it—where I see the real him.
Only he stays where he is. He doesn’t reach for me.
“I’m late,” I blurt.
He barks out a startled laugh. “Late for what? Am I just one of many suitors this evening?”
I bite back a smile, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “Maybe.”
I’ve officially lost it. I’m flirting with him.
“Can’t say I’m surprised you’re so in demand, but I’m wondering if there’s anything I can say that might get you to stay.”
I shake my head, inching toward the door.
“One more kiss, then? I’m dying for it.”
I choke back a laugh. If only he knew.
