He shifts slightly, reaching for the small marble tray he’d carried out earlier and set within arm’s reach. They're two wine glasses in it and one bottle of untouched red. And then, there's a tumbler packed with ice cubes that catch the moonlight like diamonds.I'm still wondering what the ice cubes are even doing there, when I see him pluck one cube between his thumb and forefinger. He lets it drip once, twice, watching the water trail down his wrist before he brings it to my overheated skin.The first contact at the hollow of my throat, is electric shock. I arch hard off the tiles with a sharp gasp. He drags the ice in a slow, torturous line downward: between my breasts, around the outer curve of one, then the other. My nipples pebble instantly, painfully tight. Rivulets race down my ribs, pool in the dip of my navel, slide lower.“Slade, please—” The words rip out before I can cage them.He chuckles low, dark, and dangerous. “Patience, Rebel. W
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