Page 141 of Carnal Games

His strong hands linger on my naked waist over the waistband of my leggings, seeming in no hurry to release me after I’m steady.

I trail my gaze up his wide torso and swallow the ball of lust, staring at his abs and muscles stretching around the black compression shirt he’s wearing. The short sleeves molding to his bulging biceps. Holy smokes! They’re as thick as my thighs.

The tribal tattoo swirling around his arm—it’s going to be the death of me.

When my eyes stop their shameless journey on his handsome face, I find his metallic ones locked on mine with a feral hunger and raw need.

I blink.

He’s still wearing the same expression.

His unmasked face feels like a trap, when it should be the opposite.

“Morning, rainbow,” he rasps, circling his thumb around my belly button. “Going somewhere?”

Lord! What’s happening? I expected totally different behavior.

Did he smoke pot this morning? Perhaps he’s drunk.

No! I must be dreaming.

Raising my hand, I press against his side and pinch him.

His body barely jerks, but his eyelids narrow, dancing with amusement. Arching a brow, he teases, “Why are you always pinching me?”

Nope. He’s real.

My skin tingles, and my stomach muscles clench, becoming hyperaware of his hands touching and roaming overmy waist. We both stare at each other, pretending it’s not happening.

He ordered me to lock myself in my room yesterday and now he’s fucking with my head. Caressing my body unabashedly and possessively, like it’s his right.

How am I supposed to show him mercy when he’s showing me none?

A soft tug on my ponytail yanks me from my distracting thoughts.

“Still sleepy?” Kian hums.

I shake my head.

Your sexiness has impaired my speech.

“Why aren’t you talking to me then?”

I whisper, “Because you’re touching me.”

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want me to,” he counters, crowding me.

I take a step back.

He yanks me forward.

My gasp makes his face darken.

“Don’t pull away.” The rough timbre of his command causes my nipples to harden. “Ask me to drop my hands.”

The longer I stay silent, the harsher his hold becomes. His fingertips dig into my skin with just enough bite to draw a moan from me. I bite my lip at the last second to stifle it.

“You can’t, can you?” he taunts smugly.

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