Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,63

runs her hand up my chest, and my breath shakes out of me, because the woman’s touch is just too soft, familiar, and unsettlingly tempting.

“I don’t have the body for something this tight. It’s really irking me that he couldn’t have let me come in my underwear. My body looks better naked than suctioned in skin-tight clothing that highlights every flaw,” she carries on, being entirely too critical.

My body certainly appreciates the feel of her in that thin material. It makes me desperate to move.

She steps back, and I almost feel abandonment in the absence of her touch. My chest constricts tighter, and I strain to move toward her. But my feet remain rooted to their spot, despite my best efforts.

She taps her chin again, while I remain stuck in this tortuous hell. She’s clearly a witch. She’s undoubtedly here with an agenda.

I’m a man who prides himself on having control over all my baser urges, but this one is far too tempting. I’ve never wanted anything so desperately as I want to rip that fabric from her body.

“Come closer,” I tell her with a smirk.

She lifts one of her eyebrows, studying me, and then a devilish smile curves her lips, as she lifts her hands to slowly begin unzipping the front of that scandalous little number.

She continues unzipping it, all the way down to where it demonstrates the fact there’s nothing underneath. My tie feels much tighter, and I can’t even manage to loosen the knot.

With a bit of a wiggle, she works it off her shoulders and down to her hips, her daring eyes not leaving mine. This woman is dangerous, because she does all this without even looking over her shoulder at Idun and the others, confident they’re of no concern.

She suddenly begins struggling, and she drops her head to where her very complicated boots begin. When she hops around on one foot, her very tempting backside swaying with the motion, my control becomes a thing of the past.

As if mesmerized by every pale inch of her, my sluggish body begins to slowly grow more sensation. My fingers twitch.

“Damn these boots. I’m working hard to be sexy. Just look away for a second,” she says with another hop, nearly crashing into the wall beside her.

My eyes stay riveted to all the bare flesh, and my fingers twitch with movement once again.

“You’re offering your body to me, witch?” I ask to be certain, as my toes move in my boots.

“Of course I am. I’ll try anything to get you to snap out of this trance, especially since my prior plan doesn’t seem possible even to me. I wish I’d known you would only snap halfway out. I could have taken one of the others with me, and we could have staged a ruse,” she rambles on, even as she grunts with the effort it takes to remove just one of her complicated boots. “If that was possible. Hell, I know nothing. I’m winging this, in case you haven’t noticed.”

My foot slides forward, and I smile a little more to myself, studying the brazen morsel of temptation. So daring, young, and innocent, it seems. And ambitious, if she’s willing to do this right under Idun’s nose.

I’ll name a ship after this one.

Chapter 18

VIOLET

Seduction fail.

Majorly.

Damien is a sadist.

These boots were meant to humble me in every way, and leave me with no dignity, since I’m hopping around, mostly naked, stuck in this fresh hell to explore.

In front of Vance Van Helsing. The one who doesn’t already know that I’m great at ruining all of the ‘sexy’ when I try too hard.

Two hands are suddenly on my hips, and my breath hisses between my lips when I’m roughly shoved against the table in front of me. His body comes down on my back, and both my hands are wrenched behind me, as his breath teases my ear.

Bare skin brushes against mine, as his strong, lean muscles contract against me.

“Careful, witch. I may want you, but I don’t trust you. Move too suddenly, and I will end you for the sake of suspicion,” he assures me, the deadly threat coming as he kicks my feet apart wider.

I’m not sure why I tremble. I’m also not sure why I like it so much when he pushes between my legs, fingers grazing me in a place that has me squeaking out a breath of surprise.

My fingers grip the edges of the table, even as my knees tremble in warning of losing balance. It feels