chapter 41

THEA

“I won’t let you,” I whisper.

The words sound firm in my head, but they come out breathless. Weak. My hands tremble where they rest on the edge of the chair. My thighs are pressed tightly together, and I know he sees that too.

Ezra doesn’t laugh. He just cocks his head, pale blue eyes blazing–hungry– as his hands stay shoved in his pocket.

“Won’t let me what?” he murmurs.

“You know what.”

He leans closer. I stay seated, even though my instincts scream at me to move—run or fight or do something other than sit here and melt under his stare. But my body doesn’t listen. My knees fall open slightly as my breath hitches.

His voice lowers again, thick like molasses. “You keep saying no, Thea, but your body’s already given me the answer.”

“I don’t care,” I hiss, even as my hips shift, betraying me. “I don’t want this—”

A slow, dangerous smile curls his lips. “Liar.”

And before I can blink, I’m not in the chair anymore. I’m on his desk—lifted like I weigh nothing, my heels clattering against the edge of the hardwood, my purse forgotten on the floor.

He stands between my legs, taller than he should be. Broader than I remember.

And I remember too much. I remember his hands. His mouth. His tongue like sin and silk and torment.

My eyes widen I'm horror. “Wh–what did you just do?”

He chuckles. “It's called teleportation.”

I gulp audibly, his smell filling my nostrils.

Shit, I'd forgotten I'm dealing with… a supernatural? An immortal? 

Oh shit.

“You’re shaking,” he says, voice almost gentle, his knuckles brushing my jaw. “Are you afraid of me, Thea?”

“No,” I lie.

“Another lie.” He whispers as he leans in, close enough that his breath ghosts over my lips. “Is it because I’m not human?”

My spine stiffens.

And I hate to admit that the fact that he's not human, and that I'm starting to believe it, doesn't just scare me. It turns me on. Like the thrill and fear of the unknown.

“You don’t…” I trail off, heart hammering. “You don’t have to say it.”

“I think I do.”

His fingers slip under my chin, tilting my face up to his. His pale blue eyes has turned to red, glowing subtly in the light.

His eyes search mine. “I could ruin you,” he says softly.

I should recoil. I should scream. I should shove him away, slap his face, spit in his mouth. Kick his crotch.

But I clench instead.

Wetness pools between my legs so suddenly it makes my stomach flip. My breath leaves me in a tiny, involuntary sound—so close to a whimper it shames me.

Ezra hears it. Of course he does.

“Oh,” he breathes as he dips his nose into the crook of my neck. “You like that. Don’t you?”

“No,” I rasp, but even I don’t believe it anymore. My thighs tremble as he parts them wider with his hips, his hands landing on either side of mine.

He leans back to meet my eyes. “You want to pretend I’m the devil. That I tricked you. Forced you. But you called me.” His hand glides up my thigh, slow and deliberate. “You came to me. And now…”

His fingers brush over my panties. Soaked. Humiliatingly soaked.

I shudder. His eyes close like he’s inhaling the scent of me.

“You’re already mine.”

I shake my head, but he doesn’t stop. One hand stays between my legs, cupping me through the lace. The other slides up my spine, curling into my hair.

I should say something. 

But all I do is gasp as he presses his thumb against my clit, not even pulling the fabric aside. Just that—lazy pressure and his mouth ghosting over my ear.

“I could bend you over this desk right now,” he murmurs, “and you’d take it. You’d let me fill you so deep, you'd forget your own name.”

I moan.

Then, his lips finally crash into mine, hard and searing. His tongue licks into my mouth like he owns it—like he’s marking me from the inside out.

I kiss him back. I shouldn’t.

But I do.

His mouth is savage on mine, devouring, claiming, his tongue slick and unrelenting. I clutch at his shirt, tugging, tearing. I throw all caution in the wind and I moan in his mouth, pressing his head closer. I can't keep lying.

I need more. I need him.

But he pulls back, chest heaving.

“Strip,” he says, low and rough.

“I—”

“Now.”