Page 33 of Arrogant and Merciless

He says he doesn’t like games. That’s not true. I think he just doesn’t like games where he isn’t laying down the rules, and I’m more than willing to change—or at least balance—that dynamic.

I don’t look back until I reach the dance floor, which is relatively crowded, but I startle when I turn around and feel his large, warm hands on my waist. Not only did he come after me, he’s making it very clear to everyone watching that we’re together.

He pulls me into his body, and when I lift my face to look at him, there’s something wild in his expression that turns my legs to jelly.

I raise my arms to wrap them around his neck and begin to dance, rubbing against him sensually.

“If you think you’re going to run away from me,” he says, possibly answering what I said moments ago, “you haven’t learned a damn thing about who I am.”

“I never said I’d run,” I reply, “just that maybe my interest would vanish faster than yours.”

And the award for biggest lying drunk goes to me, ladies and gentlemen.

I definitely need to stay away from alcohol. Seems like it took away all my inhibitions—and my common sense, too.

But as far as inhibitions go, what woman in my position wouldn’t be swooning? William isn’t just physically perfect; he’s sexy and dead set on seducing me.

Desperate to regain a scrap of control, I take a step back. “Dance with me. I want to have fun. Can you give me that?”

Instead of answering, he kisses me. And just like when we met downstairs in the club, it’s not just a showy kiss for anyone looking—it’s a kiss that says that when we’re finally alone in a room, he’ll take everything from me.

I feel a heady rush of both anticipation and fear of heartbreak, because something tells me my life will be split into “before” and “after” William. But I’m already too caught up in him to pull away now.

One of his hands grips my hip, his thumb brushing over the elastic of my underwear. “I want it off your body, Taylor. I want you sitting on my tongue.”

Those words nearly make me beg him to take me away and fulfill that promise. But there’s a mischievous side of me—one I didn’t even know existed—that recalls Jackie telling me to“make him work for it.”

Though I’m breathless and my palms are cold with excitement, I decide to play along with this seduction game. “You think you can satisfy me, Mr. Marshall?”

Instead of taking offense, he smirks, the way I imagine a predator might look at its prey. It does such a number on me that I try to pull away from his arms, but he doesn’t let me.

I sense the heat of his breath. He’s turned on too, and he catches my lower lip in his teeth. He sucks on it in a way so blatantly sexual that I can’t hold back a moan.

“I give you my word, Taylor Jarvis: when I finally make you mine, you’ll never forget our first night.”

“And you—will you be able to forget it?” Now I pull away more decisively, and keeping my eyes on him, I dance for him, oblivious to the world, trapped in our own bubble. Maybe I don’t know all the rules of this world I’m entering, but I do have one major advantage: William wants me.

I move to the music, letting all my desire for him show. A few seconds later, I almost smile when he comes closer again.

He grabs a handful of my hair, tilting my head back. “I’m obsessed with knowing what it’ll feel like having your pussy clench tight around me.”

Every inch of me aches for him too, but I won’t admit that under any circumstances, because I realize something: William wants me, but he doesn’t seem happy about it.

“I’m not what you really want,” I say, half disappointed, half relieved—because it means that whatever is happening between us, for the sake of my inexperienced heart and mental well-being, is only temporary.

“You’reeverythingI want.”

“So why do you look at me like you’re angry all the time?”

He’s now moving to the rhythm of the music, too—and, if possible, seducing me even more.

He’s perfect. He can even dance.

No, not perfect,I correct myself.He’s delicious, but a pompous jerk as well.

“I’m not angry, Taylor; I’m dying of need for you, and it’s got my whole body on edge. I’m afraid of what I’ll do once I finally have you naked and at my disposal. So for as long as I don't lose my head right here, dance with me.”

His idea of dancing, for me, is more like a mating dance, because the next moment, he claims my mouth again without missing a beat of the music.

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