"Your bride?" she echoed, her brows furrowing in utter confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? I've never been engaged. And can you let me go?" Her voice sharpened as she shifted on his lap.
He didn't move an inch. Instead, his hand tightened ever so slightly around her waist, his head tilting in casual defiance. "No, dearest. I'm quite comfortable with you here. You might as well get comfortable too."
Her frown deepened, and she squirmed, attempting to free herself. "No," she snapped, "I don't sit on men's laps unless we're fucking."
His chuckle was low, a rumble that sent an unwanted shiver down her spine. "Everything is about sex to you, isn't it, dearest? Isn't that why you're here?" His words pierced through her nonchalant façade.
She flushed under his scrutiny, but shamelessly tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Yes," she said boldly, her chin tilting up. "Sex is fun. I like sex. It's pleasurable and not stressful like other things…" Her voice trailed off as she realized how much she'd said.
"Like relationships?" he offered smoothly, his dark gaze locking onto hers with unnerving precision.
Her confidence wavered. "Yes," she said flippantly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Relationships are complicated and stressful. I don't want something so… boring."
He reached for a lock of her blonde hair, twirling it around his fingers with a languid motion that was almost hypnotic. Her breath hitched as he brought it to his nose, inhaled deeply, and then pressed a kiss to the strand.
She froze, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn't figure him out. Couldn't read him.
And that terrified her.
She didn't like men who weren't easy to manipulate—men she couldn't control. They didn't fit her rules. And he was breaking all of them.
"I don't like you," she spat suddenly, her words sharp and desperate.
His lips curved into an amused smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Tell me more, dearest."
She inhaled sharply. "I'm here to steal from you," she blurted before she could stop herself.
His grin widened, devilishly so. "You've stolen from me before, darling. Try again."
Her body tensed as his fingers trailed lazily along the straps of her outfit, mirroring the way she had teased him earlier. The heat radiating between them was suffocating, but it was his unwavering composure that set her nerves alight.
Her body betrayed her, every nerve buzzing under his touch. No man had ever unraveled her defenses the way he did. She felt trapped, cornered by a predator she didn't know how to outmaneuver.
Desperation flared in her chest. She needed to regain control. Her fingers traced the light stubble on his chin, her movements deliberate and sensual. "You know you want me," she whispered, her voice dripping with seductive confidence. "I'm right here. On your lap."
She leaned in, brushing her lips against his jaw and trailing soft, lingering kisses to his ear. This. This was the feeling she knew. The heady rush of hot desire. She could handle this.
"Take me," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "Right here. Right now."
His dark laughter sent a chill racing down her spine. "So you can cry beneath me again?" he rasped. "Gladly. But this time…" His voice dropped, sending tremors through her. "…I'm going to deprive you of the satisfaction of touching me."
Before her mind could process his words, he flipped them effortlessly. The world spun, and suddenly, she was face down, her legs bound by his tie, her skirt riding high as her body was pressed against the couch.
"Wha—" she started, but her words dissolved into a sharp intake of breath as his hand brushed over the curve of her hips.
"Not going anywhere, Nikki," he growled, his lips grazing the silk of her panties.
Her breath hitched as his tongue traced deliberate patterns, spelling his name against her sensitive flesh. Her fingers clawed at the couch for stability, her mind a haze of confusion and pleasure.
"This time," he said, his voice dark and possessive, "you're mine."