Page 30 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

If anything, the challenge in her eyes burned brighter.

"Careful," I murmured, my face mere inches from hers. "You don’t know what you’re asking for."

She tilted her head, her lips curling into that infuriating smirk.

"I know exactly what I’m asking for. The question is, can you handle it?"

A growl escaped me, low and primal, as I pressed my body against hers, pinning her in place. The heat of her skin seeped into mine, igniting something deep within me.

My shadows writhed around us, responding to my fraying control, but she didn’t flinch.

She never did.

"You’re playing with fire," I warned, though even I could hear the rasp of desire in my voice. My grip on her wrists tightened, though not enough to hurt—just enough to remind her who held the power.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and my gaze followed the motion, hunger coiling tight in my chest.

"Good thing I’ve never been afraid of getting burned," she said, her voice a sultry whisper.

Gods, this woman would be the death of me.

Before I could think better of it, my lips crashed against hers. The kiss was fierce, demanding, a battle for dominance that neither of us was willing to lose. Her defiance met my aggression head-on, her teeth nipping at my bottom lip as her body arched against mine.

I released her wrists, my hands sliding down to her hips, gripping her with enough force to leave marks. She responded by tangling her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer as if she could fuse us together.

The bed creaks as it’s forced to bear the weight of both of us as I crawl onto its stable infrastructure, and that only seems to fuel the fire coursing between us with anticipation.

She tastes good, looks good,feels good…where was she all this while? Why has there never been one before her that could steam such immense lust within my emotionless soul until now?

Until her.

I broke the kiss, my breath ragged as I stared down at her.

Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and the sight of her so thoroughly undone made something dark and possessive flare within me.

"Reckless," I muttered, shaking my head. "You’re going to ruin us both."

"Then stop me," she challenged, her voice breathless but unwavering. "Or admit you don’t want to."

I didn’t answer, at least not with words. Instead, I hooked my hands beneath her thighs, moving with ease so my legs were over the edge of the bed and my feet caught the stability of the ground beneath. Dragging her in my gasp, I lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist.

She gasped, her hands clutching at my shoulders as I carried her to the nearest wall, her defiance giving way to something softer, more vulnerable.

As much as I want to take her against the bed like any man would, I feel this nagging need to be rougher. To show her a glimpse of how this relationship will thrive because I’m not kind in the bedroom.

Not close at all.

I thrive on the brutality of it all, but then again, all I’ve done to heed the few spikes of lust drilling my senses is with my hand in crazed rage to tame my maddening erections.

She’s new. A new addiction I want to enjoy while she’s still appeased by the mere idea of being near me.

My shadows coiled around us, shrouding the room in darkness, but she didn’t shy away. Her hands further grip myshoulders, her nails scraping lightly against my skin before sinking deeply.

I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through me.

I lean inward, my lips brushing against her ear.

"Last chance," I said, my voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You can’t handle my roughness.”

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