I’m sure of it, just like he’s doing to me. I’m convinced he can hear my thoughts because he twists his hand even harder, forcing wetness to form on my lashes from the sting. A sly smirk graces his classically handsome face, joy in my agony.
Perhaps he wants me to cry, to beg him to stop, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me shed a tear or hearing me plead for mercy.
If only he knew why I can’t cry. Pain prickles my scalp, for a moment, before Damien releases me as if I’ve burned him.
His eyes spark with a flame so destructive, it threatens to engulf me in its inferno. The way his mouth tilts, his full lips curling into a sinister smirk, makes every nerve in my body come alive.
“Are you going to be my pretty thing, Nesrin?” he asks, as he tips his head to the side. “Will you let me have you, enjoy you, until I’ve had my fill, even though I really shouldn’t?” He regards me through a shrewd gaze. His question diminishes any need that burned through me seconds ago.
“You may be used to girls throwing themselves at you, but I’m not them, and I never will be.” My words are filled with venom, but he doesn’t seem perturbed at my retort. The smile that curls his lips only seems to brighten and the dimples that deepen in either cheek do nothing to stop the flurry of hummingbirds in my stomach.
It’s stupid, really. I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. And I certainly shouldn’t be feeling like a teenage girl with a crush, but Damien Thorne is just that—something my young heart would love to learn more about. He’s handsome, sexy, and he has a voice that could melt ice cream. Even though he’s aloof most times, there’s a seductiveness to him that I’m drawn to.
“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice, Nesrin?” he asks, as he tugs my lock of hair once more. The darkness of the impending storm gathering outside seems to encroach on us, filling the bright and sunny greenhouse with shadows.
I meet those ice-blue eyes in an attempt to seem unperturbed by his nearness. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Let me make this clear, I’m not going to lie to you to protect those delicate emotions of yours, Nesrin.” His words still me. What could he throw at me verbally to hurt me?
“You don’t need to protect me from anything, Damien.” I push by him, wanting to put some distance between us, but he’s fast. His hand shoots out to grab my wrist, spinning me around, until I’m flush with him, and his other arm wraps around my waist.
“Even from myself?” he challenges, with a glint of mischief that shines in his eyes. His dark brow raised, as those dimples threaten to have me falling deeper under his spell. “Because I’m the most dangerous one there is, Nesrin. And you have no way of fighting me off.”
My mouth falls open, but no words come out. I want to tell him I hate him, to push him away, maybe even to knee him in the groin, but my body is rigid with shock and need swirling together.
He leans in closer, so close, in fact, I can feel the heat of his breath feathering over my cheek. My heart skids to a halt, then beats wildly against my ribs, when I feel the softness of his lips on the heated skin of my jaw.
His mouth brushes along my ear, leaving white-hot electric sparks in its wake. Then he whispers, “But something tells me you like that. You like the danger, the passion, the mystery. Which means, if I slipped my hand between those pristine, caramel thighs of yours, I’d find your panties soaked. Just for me.”
Anger and humiliation rage inside me. A battle of hate and lust rages within, just like the strike of lightning that shutters outside—sparking the darkened sky with a streak of warning—and the silence is shattered, causing me to yelp in shock.
My heart is now in my throat, thick and ominous. I attempt to swallow, trying to force myself to shove Damien away, but I don’t have to because, just as the white spark outside disappears within seconds, he moves away from me.
We stand in silence, our gazes locked, and I have nothing to say to him. My body is trembling from our interaction, and I know he can see it. Damien