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Even without the bath water, I would be wet.
Slowly, my empty mind is filled with a disturbing image.
A chest. Exposed in the middle by an open dress shirt. The soft white material frames the muscular skin like drapes, contrasting the black tattoos that snake over it like a yin yang symbol.
Without my permission, a single finger drags my whole hand down between my legs.
The chest shrinks, but only because my view is being pulled back. From behind my fluttering eyelids, I see a strong neck with a thick Adam’s apple. It leads up to a sharp jawline. Bright red lips soon follow. Then a hard, rigid nose between two boulder-like cheekbones.
A warm shiver runs through my body when I get to the eyes.
The deepest blue I’ve ever seen.
Pressure builds in my core as my finger circles my begging clit. Those eyes slither into my soul, wrapping around my heart like a slimy tentacle; squeezing so hard that I feel like I’m going to burst.
Suddenly, I’m snapped out of this dirty dream by my own whimper. It echoes around the old bathroom like a pin-drop.
The warm water is no longer comforting. Now, it’s suffocating. It’s shameful. Embarrassed at myself, I push my way out of the tub.
The shameful arousal lingers like a stubborn mule as I grab a towel and kick my nightgown back towards the bedroom.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Everything.
I’m a hot mess.
Last month, I thought I had everything figured out.
Sure, Father was dead, but that was only supposed to mean I was free.
Anger led me by the horns. To my surprise, I was able to rally some of his men to my side. For what purpose? There was only one that we could all agree on.
Revenge.
But then more men came to my side. They liked that I was fighting instead of running or hiding. If there’s one thing that Greeks like, it’s fighting.
By the time I had my own little army, it was too late. Retsos had realized the true power of my position before I had. And that’s because he wasn’t thinking with his heart. He was thinking with his cold, calculating, reptilian mind.
All of my blood lust blinded me. And the untouchable took advantage of that.
He stole Castor and used him as a pawn so that I could be controlled.
Just like that, all of the power that I had built with my rage was gone, and I was forced to confront what I really was. What I really am.
Not some warrior queen on a tour of vengeance. No. I’m just a twenty-year-old girl, barely out of her teens, controlled by a constantly swirling whirlwind of emotions, caged by uncertainty, locked in a gilded cage she’s never been able to truly break out of.
I fucking hate it.
And I fucking hate it even more now that Leonid’s stupidly handsome face has reminded me so forcefully of just what I am.
Nothing special. Just another head case born into a powerful family. A girl who can’t get a pretty boy out of her mind.
I’ll lose everything because I don’t have the strength to fight against my nature. What just happened in the tub is proof of that. It didn’t even take me a day before I was rubbing one out to the image of someone who’s supposed to be my mortal enemy. And why?
Is it just because he’s gorgeous? Or is it because he so happens to be the exact same kind of gorgeous that the dead little girl inside of me always dreamed of running away with?
Drying off my hair, I hold the towel up to my chest and press back against each heavy beat of my frustrated heart.
