Chapter 2 #3
“I see,” I reply, forcing my anger deep down inside because she does not need to see that side of me.
How the fuck her prick of an ex never saw her for exactly what she is, and that is fucking beguiling, is beyond me.
He knew exactly what he was doing when he called her his strange little duck.
It was never a term of endearment; he was insulting her right from the start, hiding it behind false affection.
I know men like him. Though I say none of that out loud.
“I apologise for bringing up past trauma.”
“You didn’t know,” she says, then shrugs, as if being treated that way by her ex was just par for the course. “Can I go now?”
“I would still like that goodnight kiss,” I say.
“You really don’t give up, do you?”
“When I want something, there’s very little anyone can do to stop me,” I admit.
“And you really want to kiss me?” she asks, looking at me curiously like I’m a puzzle she needs to solve. Well, the feeling’s mutual.
“Yes,” I reply, my fingers snaking into her hair whilst my arm wraps around her back. I pull her tight against my chest, so tight that she can feel exactly what she does to me.
Her cheeks flush. “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed,” I reply. “So, Edie, will you allow me the pleasure of your kiss?”
“You’re asking for my permission?”
“Do I have it?”
Edie thinks for a moment, her gaze slipping from my eyes to my lips and back again.
“Sure, why not? You only live once, right?” I lean in, but she presses a hand against my chest, halting me.
“But just so we’re clear, I’m doing this out of curiosity more than anything.
Call it an experiment, and definitely do not take this as an invitation into my bed, no matter how talented at kissing you think you are. One kiss, then I’m gone. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” I reply.
It’s not exactly the response I was hoping for, but I’m not a man who will back down when a challenge is placed in front of me, so I lean in closer, then crush my lips against hers.
She doesn’t melt into my arms as I expected she would.
In fact, she keeps her eyes screwed shut and her lips pressed in a hard line despite my desperate need to fuck her mouth with my tongue.
Gently, my fingers wrap around her throat, not in a threatening way, but with reverence.
My thumb traces her pulse, swirling gentle circles over her skin.
Then I draw back, placing featherlight kisses against her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyelids, her forehead, repeating the sequence until she’s dragging in sweet, shaky breaths.
Then, when she’s receptive enough, I kiss her mouth once more, tracing the tip of my tongue between her slightly parted lips.
She tastes of expensive champagne and danger.
The kind of danger I should walk away from.
Except I don’t, because when she whimpers, her shoes dropping to the floor with a thud, I take that as my cue to kiss her the way I’ve wanted to kiss her since the moment she saw right through me and called me out on my bullshit.
Angling my head, I slide my hand up her throat and hold her in place whilst I fuck her mouth with my tongue.
I don’t kiss her sweetly, and I sure as fuck don’t hold back.
Interestingly, neither does she.
In fact, she curls her fingers around my harness, tugging me closer before she slides her hands over my shoulders and into my hair, pulling on the strands more roughly than I’d expected.
Arching against me, her breasts press against my chest as she bites my bottom lip just enough to sting before soothing it with a swipe of her tongue.
Damn, I thought I was a good kisser, but Edie? She knows how to bring a man to his knees with a kiss.
And fuck me. I like it.
Normally, I’m the one in control when it comes to situations like this.
I get high off the fact that my skills as a lover are nothing short of godly.
I’ve had over three hundred years of practice, after all.
And yet, my knees are trembling, and my dick is leaking pre-cum like it hasn’t done in centuries.
When a low growl rumbles up my chest, and I’m on the verge of begging Edie to let me taste her pussy, I find the strength to take a step back.
I do not beg.
I draw the line at begging for anything.
“Fuck,” I exclaim, locking my knees in place so I don’t fall to the floor at her feet and do what I’ve never done before.
Edie’s cheeks flush a deeper pink, the swell of colour spreading across her chest and neck. I have the urge to step back into her space and chase it with my tongue and my teeth.
I don’t.
“You okay?” she asks, straightening her skirt as though she hadn’t just rocked my fucking world with one kiss.
“Yes. You?”
She shrugs. “It was a nice kiss.”
“Nice?” I grunt, fucking wounded. Stabbing me in the heart would’ve hurt less.
“Yes, nice. Well, I guess this concludes our little…” Her voice trails off as she waves her hand in the air between us, before slipping on her heels, “Tête-à-tête.”
“That’s it?” I ask, struggling to catch up with what’s going on here. I’m reeling at her dismissal.
“That’s it. Goodnight, Mr Crow. It was… interesting meeting you.”
And with that, she strides past me with a quick pat to my arm, then pushes open the door to the bar, saunters past my men and disappears into the lift without so much as a backward glance.