Page 31 of Vengeful King

But it’s nothing like I expected. It’s so muchmorethan I was prepared for.

He pulls me closer, tugging me flush against his body. One of his hands is on my lower back, resting just where my dress stops. If he moved it any farther up, he’d be touching my skin. I can almost feel it.

The tension I felt from the moment I stepped in his office explodes. There are no strings holding us back, no self-imposed boundaries stopping us.

I feel like I’m burning with a fever, my entire body reacting to him. What started as me taking a chance to complete the task I’ve been blackmailed into is morphing into something completely different. Every cell in my body reacts to his touch. His lips on mine feel incredible. He’s hard, unyielding. He’s like a force of nature, and I can’t do anything but cling to him.

His hand slides upward, and when his thumb brushes my spine, it sends a jolt of electricity through me. I moan into the kiss, and he shoves me back against the desk, starting to bend me backward.

Fuck. Oh god.

I can’t remember the last time someone kissed me like they wanted to consume me, like they wanted to have all of me. Maybe it’s never happened. Certainly not with Casey.

Is he going to do this now? Here?

It’s hard to think with his mouth on mine, but I force myself to remember what I’m supposed to be doing.

I have to kill him.

It’s hard to remember. He’s touching me in a way that tells me this isn’t going to stop. He’s not looking for a makeout session; we aren’t kids. He wants everything.

He wants to fuck me, and he’ll do it right here, on his desk.

The thought sends a fresh wave of adrenaline through me, an unexplainable kind of yearning.

The thoughts are jumbled in my head, confused by the way he’s touching me, the way he bites my lip. He isn’t going to let me think or breathe. He’s going to keep taking what he wants until he has me bent over, fucking me hard enough to trash his perfect desk.

And I want him to.

God, I want him to. That thought scares me—I know I shouldn’t, know it will make this harder. I can’t get distracted, and certainly not by the man I’m supposed to be killing. I have to focus.

So I do.

I have what I need. I just need him to stay distracted while I do it.

I pretend to clear something off the desk behind me, then lift myself and slide back on the smooth surface. I brought the bottle with me, hidden in the small clutch I always bring to work. It’s thankfully open enough for me to dig around and find the antifreeze.

I don’t turn away from him. I shift my weight and click my heels against the desk a little to distract from the snap of the bottle’s lid.

I blindly feel for the lip of the glass he was drinking from and squeeze in the antifreeze, still kissing him so deeply that it’s hard to breathe.

I’m not sure if it’s Lachlan’s kiss or the knowledge that I’m about to poison him that makes my heart rate skyrocket. All I know is that I’m blinded by fear and arousal, confused by the haze of danger and want surrounding me. I can’t untangle the feeling of his hands on my body and the knowledge that I can never have him. Not if I want to stay alive.

I wish I didn’t have to do this. I wish I could pretend, wish I could just say yes to him and take this one moment for myself.

But I can’t.

After shoving the empty bottle back into my clutch, I break away from him suddenly, panting. He’s breathing almost as hard as I am, and when I look at him, I can see his cock straining against his pants.

“I, um—I… need a drink.” I lick my lips, not having to feign the dizziness I feel. This is all so fucking overwhelming.

Heat burns in his eyes, darkening his irises, but he nods and grabs the bottle of whiskey, adding a splash to my glass. I take it and slip away from the desk, feeling his gaze track me as I go.

“Losing your nerve, little vixen?” he asks, his voice a rough burn.

Fuck, if only he knew how loaded that question is.

“No.” I shake my head, lifting my glass. “I want this. I need it.”

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