Page 69 of Lourdes & the Mafia
Arousal.
Fuck.
I glare at her, hating her all over again. Hating her for making me want to touch her and not giving me the chance to do so. Even when she wants it, even when her pussy weeps in my presence.
“Get on yourfuckingknees, Lourdes.” My magic lashes before she can refuse, wrapping around her legs and pushing her down. Her knees hit the floor softly—I make sure of it—and she glares up at me.
“What are you doing, Kane?”
Slowly, I unbutton my suit jacket and pull it off, tossing it onto a nearby couch. Unbuttoning the cuffs at my shirt, I begin rolling the sleeves up to my elbows. She watches the movement with her pupils blown wide and her tongue tracing her lower lip.
“I am going to teach you a lesson.”
Her body trembles. “I’ll scream,” she warns.
“Please do. Scream out my name like a good little girl and maybe I’ll let you go.”
I want to scare her. I want to give her a real reason to hate me, to despise me. Let her see the truth of my character now. Let her see the king of The Pit and truly know fear. Maybe then she’ll obey me. Maybe then she’ll hold her fucking tongue when patronizing thoughts fly through her mind.
A whimper leaves her throat, and I pause, staring hard at her. The scent of her arousal sharpens even more, filling my nostrils, making my mouth water with the promise of a taste I know I’ll never get.
Fuck.
A growl leaves my throat, though a smirk touches my mouth. “You like this, don’t you?” The magic slips across the bottom of her dress, slowly making its way inside, sliding up her leg. “You like this game we’re playing. You want this to happen.”
“So what if I do?” Her voice is tight. “So what if I think you’re hot and you turn me on? What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you want me to do about it? I was going to spank your ass but if there’s something else you want…” The magic goes against her inner thighs, explorative, searching. We stare into one another’s eyes, the dare obvious. “If you want this, Lourdes, just say the words.”
I’d only meant to frighten her. To make her scream. To make her hate me.
But now, knowing she wants this?
She bites on her bottom lip. Doesn’t speak.
The magic freezes where it’s at. She still says nothing.
Of course.
Of course she doesn’t fucking want me. Want this.
I start to pull back. I’m a fucking bastard. A terrifying fucking bastard. I can hear the beating of her heart, the erratic rhythm of fear beneath her rib cage. I got what I was after. Fear, sharp and consuming. But I dared to want for more.
I unbind her wrists and she falls forward onto all fours. Without the restrictions, she sucks in a breath, looking up at me like a disciple ready to worship from that position. Little does she know I’m the one who should be dropping to his knees for her.
I’m the one who should be kissing her feet.
Fuck, I hate her.
I want her.
I want to touch her, taste her. Maybe then this maddening obsession will end.
I grit my teeth together and look away, swallowing the sudden swell of feeling that’s lodged in my throat. “I… I apologize,” I whisper. “You do not deserve that treatment.”
Using my magic again, I lift her to a stand, dusting off her dress and setting her to rights.
She stares at me with surprise, like she expected me to take what I wanted regardless of what she did.
