Page 10 of Cursed Lifeline

He kisses the inside of my left wrist next, and I let out a wanton breath. The room fades away, and I swear I'm dreaming as his eyes lift, lock on mine, and his teeth nibble softly against my delicate skin.

He holds me captive as he grins, "To truly play the game, you can't let it be over before it ever gets a chance to start."

My hands shake. The dealer's next words break through the fog in my mind and release me from the spell Felix has me cast under.

"Hands where we can see them, Esme," he demands as he starts to deal, "Or I'll be forced to tell your father and brother where you're spending your time."

My stare quickly breaks from Felix's and finds the eyes of Alfred's friend, Caelum, who agreed to help with tonight's festivities.

"And," he adds with warning, "with whom you're spending your time with."

He raises his brow and gives Felix a challenging look. The man beside me grins viciously at Caelum before dropping my hands, picking up his cards, and then flinging his right arm possessively over the back of my chair as if I am his Lady, he is my Lord, and we'll be sharing a carriage home to our private quarters later tonight where he plans to ravage me to his heart's content. The gesture should unnerve me. It should make me realize my virtue may be at stake. Instead, it gives birth to a hopeful spark that's insatiable and fueled to a dangerous high as Felix's fingertips rise and brush fondly against the back of my neck.

Shakily, I pick up my cards and lean away before the spark gives birth to a fire that my heart warns will inevitably engulf us in an inescapable, unethical flame. But as if on some fated breeze, my chair suddenly scrapes across the marble floor until it is butted up against the side of Felix's. His thigh presses possessively against mine as his fingertips continue to twirl lovingly at the nape of my neck.

The open, dominant display shocks me. I glance up quickly and catch the eye of Felix's friend from earlier, who is now standing a few steps back from the table on the opposite side of the room. He shakes his head at his friend and snarls, "She won't be pleased you're so freely enjoying yourself, Felix."

"She's never pleased," Felix sighs in annoyance, before grumbling under his breath, "Let's face it, most women aren't."

I try to avoid their conversation, but Felix leans into me as I am organizing my cards and whispers, "Are you pleased, mon cheri?"

My mind stumbles over what suit goes with what as I try to decide if his question deserves a response.

Emitting a low, desperate growl when I don't answer, he demands, "Tell me, Esme, are you satisfied?"

The heat of his exhale tickles just under my ear. My breathing becomes erratic. My breasts strain against the confines of my corset as my heart hammers and blood deliriously rushes through my veins.

"Mmmm," Felix growls as the heat of his gaze falls on my chest, and he hungrily licks his lips. "You know what? Don't answer because your apparent discontent is my new obsession, mon cheri. Controlling your rapacious pleasure is now my only pursuit in life. In death. In your dishonorable dreams as you lay awake at night and helplessly, indecently, hunger with unvirtuous desire for the pleasure we both know only I can give you."

Stunned at how forward he is, my mouth falls open in shock. But before I can respond, the players start to ante. Chips hit the center of the table, matching the unnerved beating of my unsettled heart. When I continue to sit silent, Felix tenderly grips my chin and turns my gaze to meet his.

As he holds my stare, his ravenous gaze searches mine.and his breath promisingly whispers against my lips, "First look, first touch, first sound of your voice, first smell of your delectable skin, and I knew I'd never be able to look away from you ever again." An immodest gasp escapes my mouth as his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. "You felt it, too. Don't fucking deny it."

My cheeks blush. Blood rushes violently through my veins. He groans with thirsty need, and I let out a light whimper as his starved gaze stays locked on mine.

"Call," Caelum, demands.

Startled, I glance back at the table and see the hand has been played. All the chips are stacked in the center of the table. I don't know how much time has passed, but the hand is almost over. Confused, I notice my ante has been made, but all my other chips remain staked nice and neat next to my right. The other players around the table, all eight or nine of them, have gone all in. Bewildered, I glance to my left and realize even Felix has bet everything he has.

I debate folding until Felix says, "I, too, prefer a challenge. Though none have rattled me more than you since I lost my damned soul over a century ago."

He leans back in his chair and tosses me a devilish wink. Flipping over my cards, the groans of the other player's losses ring through the room as Felix pushes back his chair and stands. I miss his warmth the second it leaves my side.

"She cheated."

"She's counting cards."

"No one is that lucky."

"It's because she's Lord Martin's daughter."

Aghast, I look around the table and am about to stand up for myself until Felix places a hand on my shoulder, anchors me to my seat, and warns me to stay silent. Slightly annoyed, I begrudgingly look up at him. But all fight flees my soul as his threatening, sinister eyes stay locked straight ahead and burn into the men and women across from me. Silently, his threatening stare cautions them to keep quiet and leave. Immediately, the men stand and start to clear out of the room. They're angry, but they don't dare say another word. Their companions' tearful eyes fall on me as they're ushered back to the party.

"Was that all our money?" one of the women whispers between sobs to her husband.

"Your winnings," Caelum grins as he pushes the stacks from the center of the table my way. "Alfred will be pleased to learn of your take from tonight's nobility, miss."

Felix's hand leaves my shoulder, and I shiver from the loss of his touch. He promptly places it on the back of my chair and leans down until his teeth graze my ear. "That's close to three million dollars, mon cheri," his smooth, intoxicating voice causes butterflies to swarm into a chaotic flight in my belly. With that kind of money, you'll be forced to marry Lord Laurent over my dead body."

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