Page 73 of Through the Flames
“Is this seriously how you ask for things?”
“I’m not asking,” I stated quietly.
The air thickened as her breath hitched. My hands were still, but my pulse wasn’t. It was thrumming in my jaw, my neck, and in the spaces between my knuckles.
I lowered my gaze for a moment, giving her a second’s reprieve as I saw her squirming. “You think this is about Dom?”
Letting the silence settle over us for a beat, I held onto my control by a fucking thread. Then I finally turned my eyes on her again, locked the fuck in.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Ella? Swishing around in your little tennis skirts, shoving your tits in my face in these goddamn crop tops, without even fucking looking at me.”
The corner of my mouth curled up as I watched her eyes widen. “But I saw you. Iseeyou. Every time. And I wanted to kill every guy out there who thought they could, too.”
Ella didn’t argue and didn’t retreat. She swallowed thickly, opening those taunting lips like she wanted to speak but thought better of it.
“The deal is simple. If you think about it, this is just me cashing in my favors. I want you. I want to do whatever the fuck I want with you. Anywhere. At any time.”
I watched every flicker in her face, devoured it like it was already mine, because it was. She was mine.All mine.
Her eyes were huge. Hands trembling just enough to betray her cool as she reached up, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked softly.
I quirked a brow, my lips threatening to pull up into an actual smirk now that victory was so, so close. “Only if you want me to.”
For a beat, she just stared at me, a war of emotions raging behind her eyes. Then, with a shaky breath, she turned on the spot and marched to my bed.
My throat went dry as I watched her crawl onto my bed, stealing my fucking breath.
She settled back against my pillows, like she belonged there, like she’d always known she would.
Then she looked at me. Chin tilted up in defiance, eyes gleaming.
“You waiting for an invitation, or …?”
At last, I allowed the smile to spread on my face.
Twenty
Ella
Hunter hadn’t moved from his chair, regarding me like a king at the head of a chessboard.
Oh, good.
Loved being a pawn in whatever kinky little game this was.
Part of me hated how quickly my brain turned it into a fantasy. It was a case of old muscle memory — it was easier to play pretend than to admit how badly I wanted it.
But this wasn’t about me. It couldn’t be.
This was about saving my brother,nothing else.
So why did my body feel like it hadn’t gotten the memo?
He had one elbow propped on the armrest, long fingers tapping once against his knee, and his eyes fixed on me like I was a locked screen he was about to crack.
My pulse was hammering in my ears, my thoughts not only spinning but doing fucking cartwheels. Was this what an aneurysm felt like? Because I was pretty sure I was having one.
