Chapter 2: I Didn't Offer myself To You

Kiara's POV

My heart pounded uncontrollably.

The sexy man I'd kissed had cleared out the entire VIP section with just a wave of his fingers. I'd marveled at how much power he had, how everyone obeyed without question. And now we were all alone.

This was Lisa's fault for daring me, but I couldn't let him see how rattled I was. The alcohol kicked in harder, making everything feel heightened, electric.

"I just kissed you." I tried to act casual. "Relax."

"Relax?" He moved toward me and I pressed back deeper against the wall instinctively. Nowhere to run.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?"

His body came flush against mine again, but this time it wasn't desire but intimidation and dominance.

"You just kissed a complete stranger. Without consent or permission."

My body trembled, but not entirely from fear. "I... um..."

"Do you make a habit of this?" He cut me off, his voice a low growl. "Throwing yourself at men you don't know? In clubs? While you're drunk?"

"I'm not..."

"I tasted the bloody alcohol on your lips." He leaned in, his breath hot against my mouth, his body pinning me completely.

"What you just did? That's sexual harassment. I could sue you. Ruin your pretty little life. Do you understand that?"

The words should have terrified me. Instead, heat flooded through my entire body. Boldness surged through me, making me want to push him further.

"Over a kiss?"

His eyes flashed. "Over assault. That's what it's called when you touch someone without their consent." His hand gripped my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "When you press your body against theirs. When you moan into their mouth like a wanton girl."

The crude word should have offended me. Instead, my core clenched.

"That's ridiculous." Desire mixed with anger. I pushed against him. He was solid as a wall, immovable. "I kissed you. But you kissed me back." I met his gaze, defiant. "And your hand touched me inappropriately. Grabbed my ass. Ground yourself against me. So quit acting like an innocent victim."

I scoffed under my breath. "So much for older men being mature."

His face twisted into a scowl. "How dare you speak to me like that."

"I didn't mean to strike your fragile ego."

"Fragile?" His hand shot to my arm, gripping tight. His fingers bit into my flesh, bruising. "How dare you."

Pain shot through my arm. "Ouch... you're hurting me."

"Good." His grip tightened further, making me wince. "You should have thought about how dangerous it is to kiss strange men you don't know. In dark clubs. While you're drunk and defenseless."

His free hand rose, pressing against the wall above my head, caging me in. His arm brushed against my hair, then lower, grazing the top of my breast.

My breath hitched.

His eyes dropped to my chest, watching as my breathing quickened, making my breasts rise and fall. The movement made them strain against the thin fabric, the neckline so low that one wrong move would expose me completely.

"Speaking of maturity..." His voice turned cynical. "How old are you?"

"I…um…." I stuttered as my nipples tightened, visible through the fabric. His eyes locked onto them, darkening.

"You look like a little girl playing dress-up in mommy's closet."

My face burned. "I'm not a little girl..."

"Then what are you?" His knuckles brushed against the swell of my breast. "Twenty? Nineteen? Here with a fake ID and borrowed heels?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"Prove it."

I straightened my spine. The movement pushed my chest out, my breasts straining against the low neckline, threatening to spill out. His knuckles pressed more firmly against my cleavage now, the contact sending electricity through me.

Did I just... did I do that on purpose?

Yes, I did.

A shiver ran through me. I'd never been this bold. Never purposely used my body as a weapon. But right now, watching his eyes darken with hunger he couldn't hide, watching his control break, it sent electricity straight to my core.

"Grown women don't throw themselves at strange men like desperate teenagers."

His hand finally released my arm, but only to trail down, fingers brushing over my collarbone, now. "They certainly don't..."

He stopped, his fingertips trailing inside my dress causing me to hold my breath

"Don't what?" I challenged, my voice breathy.

"They don't offer themselves up so cheaply begging to be used."

I should have been humiliated. Should have slapped him and run.

His words hurt even more, but they also ignited fire in my veins. I didn't let him see the hurt.

So I held my head up, and met his cruel gaze.

"I didn't offer myself..."

"Didn't you?" He pressed harder against me, his thigh shoving between my legs roughly. My core throbbed, ached, pulsed with need. His cologne filled my senses, masculine, expensive, intoxicating.

"Stumbling in here, drunk, in this slutty little dress..." His hand trailed up my bare thigh, stopping just before where I desperately wanted him to touch. "Kissing me like you're starving for it. Grinding against me like a brat in heat."

What is wrong with me? Why does this turn me on?

"What exactly did you think would happen?" His fingers dug into my thigh. "Did you think I'd take you somewhere private? Bend you over? Give you what you're clearly begging for?"

My breath came in short gasps. "I wasn't thinking..."

"Clearly." His thigh ground between my legs, creating friction that made me bite back a moan. "Let me be very clear, little girl. I don't fuck desperate girls who play games they don't understand."

His mouth was at my ear now, his voice a dark promise. "I don't fuck girls who can't handle what I'd do to them."

That word... fuck... the way he said it, low and dirty and filled with dark promise, sent a jolt through my entire body. Images flashed through my mind, vivid and shocking. His hands pinning my wrists. His body over mine. His mouth everywhere. Him taking what he wanted.

Oh my God. Where did tat come from?

I'd never thought like this.

And right now I wanted him to ruin me.

A mocking smile curved my lips. "I find it hard to believe you don't want me."

"You can't prove otherwise..."

"Oh, I can?" I shifted my hips, pressing against the thick, hard length straining against his pants. "You're hard."

My voice came out breathy, amazed. I could feel every inch of him through the fabric, hot and rigid, pressed against my stomach. "You want me."

His face hardened, making it hard to read him.

"It's a natural response." His voice was dismissive. "I'm a man. You pressed your body against mine. Don't think too much of it."

But I could feel him throb against me in a way that told me he was lying.

"I only kissed you. Didn't ask you to fuck me."

I paused, let my eyes trail down his body intentionally, lingering on where he pressed against me.

My mouth went dry. I dragged my gaze back up to his face. "But now that you mention it..."

My lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Maybe you should."

For a split second, raw hunger flashed in his eyes. His hand tightened on my thigh, fingers sliding higher, his other hand finally cupping my breast through the fabric. My nipple pressed into his palm.

Then he released me abruptly, stepping back, putting distance between us.

"Go find your friends, little girl. Go home. Sleep off the alcohol." His voice was cold now. " Be grateful I'm choosing to act like a gentleman and let you go unscathed.

He straightened. "And don't try this with any other man. He might just take you up on that offer."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the VIP section.

I stood there, chest heaving, thighs trembling, my body still aching for what it didn't get.

Humiliated, pissed off and confused as hell by whatever that dark, twisted desire was that he'd stirred up inside me.

But mostly I wanted to run after him. Grab him by the shirt. And say what I couldn't bring myself to say before.

Fuck me.