She was trembling, skin hot, feverish. Weak.
Despicable.
Yet she clung to me as though I was the only thing tethering her to this f*****g world. My lips pressed against her pulse point, slow, deliberate. Her body, that delicate little thing, responded. It always did. And it always would. I would make sure of that.
It amused me. The fear in her eyes mingled with something else. Submission, maybe. Or was it a fractured will, too broken to resist?
Didn’t matter.
It just made me want to trace the edge of her jaw, and I did as my thumb brushed over her soft burning skin. Fragile. Breakable. But that’s what I liked about her—what made her so damn...entertaining.
A little bird with clipped wings. She’d never fly away from me, even if she tried.
I dragged the fabric of her dress down, rippi
