Page 107 of Dance of Madness

“You mean you don’t want to act those dark parts out withme,” she snaps.

“Is that what I said?” My eyes narrow. “Princess, I amtelling you, you don’t?—”

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me,” she hisses. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, or what’s too fucked up for me.”

Our eyes clash—icy blue versus poisonous green. Her lips curl into a sneer. “Or is all this just because I called you a little troublem?—”

“Do notfucking say that,” I snarl.

Her eyes glint maliciously. “Big tough guy who gets hard chasing girls through the dark, and he gets all pouty over a stupid name achildwould let roll off their shoulders.”

My jaw tightens. She’s playing with a fire she doesn’t understand.

“I’mwarning you, princess,” I hiss.

“Pussy.”

She’s obviously goading me. The problem is, it’s fuckingworking. Not because I’m pathetic. But because this girl seems to have a way of getting under my skin and fuckinglivingthere. The more she goads me, the more I want to pin her down and fuck that goddamn mouth until it’s drooling all over my dick.

“Stop it,” I snap.

“Or what,pussy?” she smiles. “Are you only into it if the girl isn’t? Is that it?”

“You need to be extremely fucking careful,” I hiss through clenched teeth, “what words next come out of your mouth?—”

It doesn’t even register immediately. One second, I’m kneeling on the bed facing her, and the next, she’s right in front of me, and my face is throbbing.

…Because she just fuckingslapped me.

I’mrarelyat a loss for words. But in that moment, I'm only capable of staring at her, a stunned, furious look frozen on my face.

My cheek pulses with heat as she leans into me, bringing her lips to my ear.

“Do whatever you fucking want,” she breathes. “Let's see who can handle what?—”

A choked, whimpered cry lodges in her chest as my hand jerks out and wraps around her fucking throat. Her eyes glaze over with need and heat as my fingers tighten on her delicate, pale skin, my lips curling into a vicious snarl.

She gasps sharply through the pressure on her windpipe as I reach up with my other hand, grab her ponytail in a fist, and yank her head back.

“For the fucking record,” I growl, leaning close, “this is what is calledasking for it.”

She whimpers again when I shove her away, sending her back onto the bed.

I slide off and stalk across the floor to where I discarded my clothes, yanking my belt from the loops of my trousers with a tug that makes the leather snap.

Milena’s breath catches in a staccato tremble as I slowly turn to her. My eyes are dark as I prowl back to the bed. She’s staring atme with eyes that suggest she’s just realizedexactlyhow much she’s just tried to bite off when it comes to me.

Too late if she wants to backpedal now.

Waytoo late.

Milena moans as I grab her wrists and wrap my belt tightly around them. She shudders as I tug her back roughly over the sheets until I’ve got her bound wrists pinned to the headboard.

Leather wrapped around iron, looped twice and then knotted tight.

My blood roars in my veins as my cock twitches and pulses, dripping precum as I wrap my hand around it and stroke it slowly.

Milena swallows nervously, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her nipples are tight and pebbled, her eyes wide as her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips.

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