The words struck like sparks against dry fuel igniting everything in an instant.
Cleopatra moved before reason could restrain her. Her hand cut through the air slap! landing hard against his face with a force that snapped his head to the side. The impact stung her palm, a sharp reminder of the heat surging through her veins.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” she snapped, her voice edged with steel, every word hitting like a blow of its own.
In one swift motion, she seized the towel and unraveled it, her movements precise, controlled like a warrior readying her weapon. Then she struck again, the towel cracking across his chest with a sharp, whipping sound.
The hit wasn’t just force, it carried weight.
A jolt shot through both of them, raw and electric.
Not just pain.
Not just
