Page 92 of Nanny and the Beast

“Don’t lie to me, girl,” he says.

He moves closer toward me, caging me between his body and the closet. Illicit desire swirls low in my belly. My nipples turn into hard points, rubbing against the silk slip I’m wearing.

I become acutely aware of every breath I take.

I become acutely aware of every shift in his body. Some of his anger fades. It’s replaced by dark desire that mirrors mine.

Right now, there’s no right or wrong.

All that exists is this magnetic force that keeps pulling us closer and closer.

That look in his eyes makes me forget about every promise I made to myself. It makes me forget about every bad thing that ever happened to me.

“Are you going to talk, or am I going to have to make you talk?” he says.

“I don’t know what this is about,” I reply, blinking up at him.

“I know exactly what game you’re playing,” he says. “Sneaking into my bedroom at night. Little silk slip that’s designed to make men hard. That fake innocence in your eyes.”

“I really don’t know?—”

His hand grabs the outside of my thigh. He moves closer toward me, pressing the hard contours of his massive body against my smaller one. The scent of his expensive cologne fills my lungs.

He drags the silk slip up my hip. His calloused hand scrapes against my skin, setting my insides on fire.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” he says in a low voice. “Who do you work for?”

His eyes are fixated on me, but he’s not really here. He’s adrift in the paranoia his mind has created.

“The only reason I came to your bedroom that night was because I heard you screaming,” I say. “I was concerned about you.”

His hand drags up my waist and cups my breast. His large thumb swipes against my nipple, making me gasp. Instinctually, I arch into his touch, filling his palm with my flesh.

It’s so wrong, but I need him to appreciate me. I thrive in the middle of this wicked desire.

“What about this cocktease slip?” he asks.

He tugs on my nipple as he speaks to me, making me see shooting stars and stardust behind my closed eyelids.

“I didn’t know you would walk into my room,” I say.

“Lies,” he says. “All lies. It’s all your kind does. Lie and cheat and break men.”

I don’t think he means to, but with every interaction we share, he shows me little parts of him. He shows me the man he is on the inside.

He’s haunted by past demons. Right now, he’s still under their hold.

“I don’t have any reason to lie to you, Klaus,” I say.

“It’s Mr. Sinclair to you,” he says.

“Mr. Sinclair,” I say. I don’t mean for it to, but my voice comes out smoky and seductive. I shift against his hold, rubbing my belly against the length of his erection.

His hand wraps around my throat, stealing the remaining breath from my lungs. A pulse forms right underneath his fingertips, letting him control whether or not I take my next breath. His fingers apply a light pressure, making heat build inside me.

I’m a pinned butterfly, entirely under his mercy. It’s up to him to decide whether he’ll let me live or perish.

I’m swept up by carnal urges, but at the same time, I see him for who he really is.

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