Page 47 of Desperate Crimes
So I press harder.
“How many have you kissed, Leanna?”
“You know my name.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer.
I just press on.
“How many have tried to touch you? How many left you wanting?”
She tries to speak. To argue.
“W-what? How could you possibly?—”
I cut her off with a slow, dark chuckle. Not cruel. Just knowing.
“I know, Princess. I always know.”
Another step. I'm near the edge of the bed now, close enough to hear the sheets whisper as she shifts.
Her breathing is shallow. Her scent wraps around me—sweet, feminine, a little anxious. Aroused.
“You never let them have you,” I say. My voice is softer now, more intimate.
“You don’t know that.”
“You can’t lie to me,” I say.
And she stays silent for a beat.
So I keep going.
“You. Never. Let. Them. Have. You. Did you, Princess? Nah. You pulled away. Smiled, but kept your distance. Teased. Tempted. But when it came time to give anything real?”
I lean in, just a breath from her cheek. I don’t touch her. I don’t have to.
“You never let them touch what you knew was always mine.”
I feel her body react.
Every part of her is humming, tight with confusion and something she doesn’t want to name yet.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers.
Her voice trembles. Not with fear. With need.
I grin in the dark.
“For you? You have no fucking idea? And if you think that bothers me?” I murmur. “It doesn’t. So, call me what you want. But deep down? You know what you want to call me.”
“Bastard? Asshole?”
I grin wider.
“Nah. Just call me yours, Princess.”
Chapter Twelve-Nico Jr
