9. Chapter Nine - Veiled Intimacy #2
A shiver raced down my spine. Not just from the chill, but from the darker pull low in my gut that struck without warning, warm and insistent, scattering my thoughts as his gaze locked onto mine with that intense stare that reshaped everything between us.
I felt my pussy quiver with excitement as his eyes fixed on me, his expression taut and difficult.
“W-What…” My voice emerged thin and breathless.
His scent filled my lungs with my next inhale.
He no longer looked at me like a boy. His jaw clenched tight, nostrils flaring, his features strained as if an unseen restraint battled something fierce within him.
I pushed harder at his chest, feigning control. “Let go. This is uncomfy.”
“No,” he said, low and final.
The single “no” sent a rush surging through me, my legs pressing together instinctively against the sudden warmth pooling there. My thighs clenched, striving to quell the ache blooming between them. I’d never felt this before. Filth coated the thrill of my terrible excitement.
“I could say you’re hurting me,” I challenged, though it wasn’t true. My eyes held his, searching… testing. My heart raced, and I feared he could hear it.
“I am not,” he replied at once, his gaze narrowing enough to expose the lie. “Never repeat that again.”
My breath hitched. “Repeat what?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes dropped, and mine followed before I could stop them.
The shape straining against his pants left little to the imagination, and my lips parted unbidden.
Hot damn. I dragged my tongue across them.
It was a careless reflex that betrayed every secret I tried to conceal.
Culver noticed.
His gaze rose again, slower this time, heavy as it traveled back up my body.
I felt it like a physical thing. Like hands I couldn’t shake off.
He studied my eyes first, as if reading the want I hadn’t admitted aloud.
Then my cheeks, flushed and warm. Then the line of my throat, where my pulse jumped nervously.
His attention lingered there, his expression tightening as though committing the sight to memory.
“Discuss other cocks,” he said coolly. Incredible. The man was jealous over a hypothetical penis.
Heat rushed to my face. “Are you insane?” I snapped. “You’re seriously mad about me hypothetically talking about dicks that don’t even exist? What, am I supposed to only talk about yours now?”
He said nothing, but something stormy stirred beneath his skin. It showed in the tension pulling across his shoulders and the tight set of his jaw. After a moment stretched taut between us, he released me. He pulled back, raking a hand through his hair as if to steady himself.
“I apologize,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “That was not my intention. I do not know what came over me.”
I exhaled shakily, the back of my hand still pressed against the glass. “You didn’t hurt me,” I admitted quietly. “But it was your eyes. You looked like you might actually do something if I touched someone else…”
His head lifted, eyes locking with mine, something exposed behind the green that made my chest tighten. “Were you going to hurt me?” I asked, not even sure I wanted the answer.
“Never,” he said instantly, the conviction striking me straight in the sternum. He reached for my hand again, slower now, gentler, resting his fingers over mine like a promise instead of a cage. “I told you from the beginning. No harm will ever come to you while I am near.”
The cold fingers made me want to trust him. Part of me already did. But the other part, the one that had reacted to being pinned, to his jealousy, to the possessive edge in his voice, scared the hell out of me. Not because it felt wrong. Because I wanted more of it.
“Then act like it,” I said sharply. “You scared me. And all over something that didn’t even happen.”
“I truly apologize, my little lamb,” he said again, and the faint pout that followed almost made me laugh if my nerves hadn’t still been buzzing.
Damn it. Why couldn’t I stay mad?
“I don’t even wanna think about what you’d do if I slept with someone else,” I muttered, puffing my cheeks as I glanced sideways at him.
If the thought bothered him, he didn’t show it. His expression slipped back into neutral calm that felt like a wall. He only nodded. “I promise not to overreact again,” he said smoothly. “At least not without reason.”
I groaned and dropped back into my seat dramatically. “Good. I’d hate to explain to my ma that the charming boy she likes suddenly disappeared.”
“She would be devastated,” he murmured, a hint of fondness slipping through.
Just like that, the tension loosened. We slid back into our strange rhythm, hovering between flirtation and something darker. I knew exactly what it was turning into, but I refused to say it aloud, even to myself.
I finally looked out the window and noticed where we were.
My breath hitched. The building in front of us was nothing like anything I could ever afford.
It rose confidently from the street, all sculpted archways and pale stone traced with gold leaf.
Regal. Nearly palatial. Every inch of it looked carefully designed, from the marble statues to the carved friezes lining the balconies.
We weren’t at the main entrance but a quieter side, guarded by two men in tailored suits who looked more like government agents than doormen.
“This is Golden Valor,” Culver said calmly. “One of my family’s properties.”
“It looks… fancy,” I said dumbly, reaching for the door before he stopped me.
“No, allow me,” he said, already stepping out.
He opened my door with gentlemanly ease, extending his hand in exaggerated politeness. The grin on his face ruined any illusion of humility.
“I haven’t forgiven you,” I told him flatly as I stepped past his offer. “You don’t get to be chivalrous after acting like a possessive maniac.” Which unfortunately was becoming a very attractive combination.
“Then let me make it up to you,” he replied smoothly. “I reacted poorly.”
I laughed despite myself. “Poorly?” I repeated. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I’m exhausted,” I added, my guard slipping. “And hungry.”
His attention lingered. Not just on my face, but tracing the curve of my body as we walked. My stomach fluttered despite myself. The guards watched us approach, still and imposing, their presence making my nerves hum.
“You can rest at my place,” Culver said casually. “And it is already decided that you will eat with us tonight.” See? There he went making decisions for me again like some emotionally repressed king from a fantasy novel.
“Says who?” I challenged, popping my hip.
“You are coming over regardless,” he replied, his voice dropping just enough to make my skin buzz. “You may as well enjoy a meal.”
I sighed, surrendering. “Fine. It’s just fun arguing with you.”
“Honest little lamb,” he said softly, his hand finding my hair again before I could stop him.
My body betrayed me instantly, leaning into the touch, eyes closing as warmth spread through my chest. Traitorous behavior. Absolutely unacceptable.
Culver Scarbrough was dangerous.