Chapter 19 #3
The shift in him was instant, his fingers flexing around my neck as if his control slipped for the briefest moment. His voice darkened. “Does this turn you on?”
Heat flooded my face. The question was a very personal one.
His hand was around my throat, and I didn’t want him to let go.
Even knowing he could snap my neck before I could breathe the word stop, I wanted more.
The dagger’s tip could pierce me in an instant, but instead, I wanted it to trace the same path his fingers had—over the swell of my breast, around its curve, circling until I was the one begging.
I was sick, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here trusting this man with my life when normally, seeing any of my exes bring a knife to bed would have sent me running for the hills with my heels touching the back of my head.
Somehow, I trusted he was more expert at handling sharp objects than any man I’d met.
Thrax’s grip closed fractionally tighter, pulling me back into the present. “Answer me.” He dragged the blade down until it kissed the curve of my breast. A pause. And then he stopped directly over my nipple, making my entire body still. “Does this,” he said softly, “turn you on?”
If he didn’t stop speaking into my ear, I’d lose whatever remained of my restraint. “What do you think?” I breathed. I fought not to press my hips back into him again, but the urge sat there, restless and knocking.
Without warning, he straightened, his hand at my throat guiding my head back against his chest, tilting it up until I had no choice but to look at him.
Even from this angle of view, he was still towering.
His gaze raked my face, lingering on my eyes, then my nose, pausing on my parted lips.
His pupils deepened until his eyes looked like they could swallow me whole.
My pulse stuttered, racing harder as the expression on his face told me he wasn’t immune to this either.
To be certain, I stayed locked on his gaze, then rose on my toes, pushed my hips up, and rolled my hips against him. Once. Twice.
The surprise in him was brief, replaced by a flex of his grip and a subtle shudder in his breath. His eyes closed for a fraction of a second, jaw tightening as though holding himself back took every ounce of discipline he had left.
And gods, that look—that war in him—pulled something in me tight, until it snapped.
My clit throbbed in warning, my chest rising in shallow bursts.
Damn, I was attracted to this version of man who was trying not to push me against the shelf and shove my trousers down my legs, who was trying to regain a semblance of control when I was a second from losing mine.
And judging by the tension in his jaw, so was he.
“Are we being wicked now, hmm?” His voice was a low rumble as he opened his eyes, fire smouldering in them. His Adam’s apple dipped and rose with every word, a movement I found far too distracting.
“You started it,” I pointed out.
One eyebrow lifted, and he pressed the tip of the dagger into my nipple.
I felt the faint give of fabric as the blade slipped through the thin cotton of my top, working its way towards the barrier of my bra.
His gaze was locked on mine, steady and unblinking, that brow still arched as though the only thing that mattered in the entire library was my answer to a question he hadn’t spoken yet.
My chest thudded. My skin burned at the thought that he might pierce me—truly pierce me—without even realising.
When the blade rolled once, sawing through the last thread of my bra, it paused exactly where my nipple peaked, as though he’d calculated it.
The sharp kiss of steel pressed against the most sensitive skin on my body.
I froze, breath caged in my lungs. Any careless shift—mine or his—could drive the point in.
“That’s dangerous,” I murmured, but his gaze had already dipped to my mouth.
“Tell me to stop.”
Never. If anyone was going to end this, it would be him.
Instead of breathing a word about stopping, I slid my hand from the shelf and brought it down between my thighs, unbuttoning my jeans and slipping my fingers inside.
His brows furrowed, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features. He didn’t even glance down but somehow, he knew what was going on down there.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
A slow smile curved my lips. “Try to stop me.”
“I have a fucking knife at your nipple,” he gritted out.
Fucking.
It was the first time I’d heard Thrax curse, and the way the word broke from his teeth made my eyes roll out of focus just as my fingers brushed my clit.
A ragged breath escaped me. Gods, I could die.
“Say that again,” I pleaded, meeting those eyes that had darkened to an insane level as I flicked my finger over the bud.
“Don’t be a bad girl. It’s not rewarding,” Thrax rasped. He pulled the dagger away, flipped it in his hand, and pressed the hilt against my jaw while I worked myself beneath my jeans. “Hmm?”
Girls were bad when their shame was nowhere to be found, and mine? It exited my body the moment he placed his hand on my stomach. “No,” I declined, clutching the shelf tighter, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
And that…that seemed to undo him.
But it also reminded him who he was. His eyes shuttered for a heartbeat, and when he opened them again, the lust was locked neatly away, hidden behind whatever walls he’d perfected long before I ever met him.
His hands left me. He stepped back, chest expanding as if he needed the air I’d stolen from him.
I released a breath as my head dropped to the books, feeling fulfilled that I beat him at the game he started, but unsatisfied and still buzzing because he could have waited a minute for me to finish. I withdrew my hand and buttoned my jeans, wiping my wetness on it in the process.
When I finally turned, he was staring at the shelf, his gaze fixed on the spines as if just noticing them for the first time.
To ease the tension, I provided, “I thought I might find a lead if I read about the cause of The Crater again,” I said, my tone sharper than intended as I crossed my arms over my chest, seamlessly blending back into the mood I was in when he first appeared.
“Since you’ve decided to keep everything to yourself. ”
Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he returned them to me. “You’re not planning to find the truth in a bunch of lies, are you?”
“You wouldn’t know.” I glanced at the shelves. “There’s always one truth in a book of lies.”
“You think?” His brow rose again. Before I could answer, he stepped to the far end of the shelf, plucked a book from it without hesitation, and returned.
With the same hand that was holding the dagger, he unfolded my arms and set the book into my hands.
Not the thick all-in-one I’d come to the shelf for, but a smaller, worn volume.
“I doubt you will find answers, but this version has a bit of truth in it.”
I scoffed. “How would you know what the truth is?”
But he only cocked his head, tucking his dagger into his coat pocket before bringing out his gloves, wearing them over those long, thick fingers.
Turning away from him, I reached for the larger book I’d wanted. “What about this one—”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder when the air behind me turned cold.
He was gone.
I scanned the aisle, the next aisle, between shelves, but there was no trace of him. Somehow, he’d slipped away without me hearing a single step.
A sigh escaped me as my gaze fell to the book he’d pressed into my hand, and I exhaled again, my inside going empty at his sudden absence. Why vanish like that after being gone all day?
Making sure no one could see the pinhole on the right breast of my top, I returned to my table and slid on my jacket, zipping it up.
But as I pulled the chair back, my breath caught at the sight of the food sitting on my table. On top of it was a small sticky note he’d taken from my table, written in his hand.
The Soulless Man will break you apart if you don’t eat on time next time.
How did he know I’ve not had food?
A chuckle broke from me despite myself, finding it unusual that he knew the old children’s tale—the nightmare mothers used to scare disobedient kids into behaving.
I knew he wasn’t anywhere near. And still…I found myself turning and scanning the corners just in case. Realising he was truly gone, I sat down and opened the book he gave me, saving the food for later.