The Ringmaster (Harrow Faire #4) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,61

a ferocious passion. When she went to push at him, he slammed her wrist over her head. She slapped him with her free hand.

He grinned, vicious and deranged.

It was going to be that kind of night.

Good.

16

Simon wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into Cora.

But he liked it.

He liked it a lot.

She thrashed beneath him like a hellcat, struggling, violent, and wild. He decided not to use his strings. Not tonight. He liked the fight. He liked the feeling of her bucking beneath him as he stripped her of her clothes. Every article was a battle, and he felt victorious as each piece peeled off her and met its companions on the floor or at the other end of the bed.

Soon, she was naked. Teeth bared and furious even though she had started this. And even though it was clear she was going to lose. She dug her nails into his arms and his chest, clawing at him, fighting with every ounce of anger she had.

She had a lot.

Poor girl. She needs release.

And she came to me to get it.

He was more than happy to oblige.

No, there would be no strings for the moment. Just his strength against hers. Just her wrath beneath his chaos and need.

He had watched her as she had followed Rudy into his tent. He had worried the beast man was going to try to rut her, but as he watched from the shadows, he was pleased to see that he was only attempting to convince her to kill Ringmaster. The Zookeeper would be an unlikely ally in the coming war, but one he was happy to have.

Clown had been running his mouth to one person, it seemed.

Fascinating.

He had watched as she laughed with Bertha and the others in her tent. He had listened through the fabric as they traded stories. A small part of him wished he had been with them. Then he had hung in the distance, just within earshot, as she talked to Ringmaster. Rudy had been right. The girl was caught at a crossroads, and she was furious about it.

He understood.

So he didn’t take it personally when she slapped him hard enough to make his ears ring. He growled and, grabbing her wrists, shoved them up over her head and pinned them both beneath his palm. She tried to kick at him instead. He laughed, forced her legs apart, and settled his hips against hers. All she could do was dig her heels into his thighs. Let her.

He kissed her, matching her fury with his violence. He snapped his hand around her throat, pressing down just hard enough to restrict her air but not to block it. She went rigid beneath him, her body going tense.

Fear.

He pulled his head back from her. She was looking at him, those gray eyes wide and wild. They were almost white in the dim lighting. He eased up on his grasp of her throat and ran his thumb slowly along the tendon on the side. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“It isn’t that.”

He smirked. He didn’t believe her. Of course she didn’t trust him. She shouldn’t trust him. He was a treacherous creature. “Cora…do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No. Not really.”

“Good.” But something still troubled him. He hadn’t seen the ghost of Duncan, the man who had supposedly loved her only to rape her, in a long time. But there it was, flickering in her eyes. It angered him. Cora belonged to him, not to some ghost of the past.

Her bare breasts heaved with her deep breaths as she watched him, feral and afraid. By all the gods in hell, it turned him on far more than it should.

“Cora.” He smirked. He tightened his grasp on her throat just a little, and she hissed in a breath through her nose, arching her back. “If you don’t trust me…tell me to stop.”

She didn’t say a word. She watched him, eyes flashing, body squirming beneath his. She was afraid. But she wanted it.

He smiled. “Good girl…”

She yanked a hand free from under his grasp and smacked him again. Hard. “Don’t call me girl.”

Snarling, he sat up without warning and threw her onto her stomach. “You’re not the only one who knows how to hit, cupcake.” She squeaked and struggled, clawing at the sheets and swatting at his hands, as he yanked her up onto her knees, her shoulders still pressed to the sheets. What a view. He slapped her ass, watching the globe dance beneath the