Page 66 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
Ardalion finishes the piece, and my cheeks are flushed by the time he looks at me. At first, he’s smiling, but then his eyes go wide.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me, concerned as he stands up and steps away from the piano. I realize my eyes are glittering, my body tense.
“Nothing.” I stammer, taking a step away from him.
“Don’t lie to me, little bunny. I saw you when you came in here. I followed you from outside. Something is bothering you—it’s why you escaped the party. And now, look at you—you look upset.”
I smile tightly. I was upset when I escaped the party. I was looking for a moment alone. But that feeling is long gone. Ardalion steps even closer to me, and my back is up against the high-arching window. He leans the palm of his hand against the glass, locking me in place.
My heart beats faster. My breath catches in my throat.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, little bunny,” he whispers, his face so close to mine that his breath is hot against my lips. I could kiss him.
He is inches away. I could stand on my tiptoes and close the gap between us. I could feel his mouth pressed into mine and his hands exploring my body.
“Belle, this is ridiculous. Talk to me,” he demands, his voice a low growl. My lips part as he reaches up to touch my face.
Then his eyes change. They flare with need. His pupils dilate with desire. He finally notices it, too. The closeness between us. The way our bodies are pressed together.
Chapter 20 - Ardalion
Oh.
My heart races faster when I realize what’s happening. She slowly bites her lower lip, and mischief flashes across her face.
My body is pushed right against hers. The window behind us filters light, which glows around her, creating a halo in her hair.
My hand is pressed against the glass above her head, her breath hot against my lips.
Being this close to her is addictive. It’s not just the physical pleasure of her body—it’s her. I want to be close to that smile, her scent, her laughter. I want to spend time with her, talking, learning about her.
Even if we spend the entire night just talking to each other, I choose her.
My cock stirs as I gently push my hips forward, rubbing it against her.
She slips her hand around my waist and pulls me tighter against her, lifting her chin to kiss me.
I lean down, eager to feel those perfect lips against mine.
“Ardalion,” my name is called loudly from someone inside the mansion.
“Shit,” I mumble, grinning at her. She giggles and licks her lips. My body pulses with desire.
“Ardalion?”
“In here,” I shout back, taking a step away from her, but not too far; I keep my arm locked around her waist and pull her to my side.
Emmanuil comes rushing into the music room.
“Did you not get the call?” he asks, his face flushed and glossed with sweat.
“What call?” I say tensely.
“Where’s your phone?”
I tap my back pocket and realize I left it on the bar when I was talking to my sister.
“Outside.”
