Page 60 of The Ember that Tethers

He shook his head. “Ah, ah, not so fast. If you step on land, it may slip from my hand into the pond. You’ll need to swim over here to retrieve it.Orperhaps I should copy and distribute it to the staff as one of your reading suggestions.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Maybe I’vealreadymade such copies. So, if you burn it or me, the pages will still go out. But I would hurry if I were you. I’m not a patient man.”

Her throat tightened with both shame and mortification. “Drop it in the water. Go ahead. I—I don’t care.” Though she may die of embarrassment if the entire staff thought of her reading it.

“Liar,” he accused. “That look in your eyes tells me something different. Tells me that you love this book, and all the filthy words in it.”

“You don’t knowanything,” she seethed. Her hands formed claws at her sides and her nails bit into her palms. “I’ll kill you if you don’t give me the damn book!”

Destonne turned to another marked page.

Oh no. She knew which one he’d selected.

He peeked at her over the book cover, enjoying her tormentfartoo much. “Do you think about your Shade while you read this, or do you let your imagination run wild?”

Her fingers sparked. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, you thought ofme? How flattering. Did you imagine my”—his finger skimmed over a line—“hands digging into your hips while you rode my—”

“Shut. Up. You’re repulsive!” Her self-control dwindled, trickling like sand through an hourglass, and her face impossibly hot, her fury a steaming, screeching teapot.

Destonne’s lips twitched as he caught the searing poker of her rage like he could harness it and stash it in his pocket for later.

This was what he wanted. He wanted her anger. Her fire.

“Better yet, shall I read it aloud?” he taunted.

Oh, fuck. Nowthatshe hadn’t expected.

Emmery glowered at him. “I fucking dare you.”

“You should know by now, I don’t back down from a dare.”

And he started reading.

“That pulse between her legs quickened as his breath cast over the back of her neck. Her nipples peaked at his touch and a small, helpless moan escaped her.” He sucked in a breath and winked before he continued.

If that’s what he wanted, he would face the full force of her wrath. Rage overtook Emmery and she trudged through the water. When she reached him, she would strangle him.

“You like this? I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s always the ones you don’t expect.” Destonne cleared his throat dramatically before he flipped the page. “When he bent her over the dark wooden table and toed her legs apart, that throbbing ache grew. His cock—”

She didn’t think beyond the boiling fury inside her. She threw herself into the water, only able to catch words here. Liquid flooding her mouth, her nose, and she didn’t consider the mechanics, or anything as she splashed, sloshed, and floundered through it.

When she reached Destonne, she clutched his shirt, hauled herself above the surface, and stretched for the book, but couldn’t reach it. She spat a heinous word, chased by a few others.

He laughed—fuckinglaughed—as he held the book out of reach. “One moment. I’m nearly done with this page.” He angled the book toward the sky. “Each thrust wound her tighter. His weight pressed her into the mattress, and—”

“You said if I—” Her head bobbed underwater, and she inhaled a burning lungful, before she surfaced, choking.

Destonne caught her around the waist and drew her against his chest. Emmery took the opportunity to climb his body until her fingers grazed the book. It slipped from his hand. The moment it hit the water, she bit back the disappointment that soaked her heart like it did the pages. The book was ruined, but she fished it from the water anyway.

Emmery released her grip on his shirt and shoved away from him, but dipped under again. Her damn legs were out of practice and fatigued already. And no matter how badly she wanted to get to the ledge, she knew deep down she couldn’t do it herself. So despite every stubborn bone in her body, she demanded, “Take me to the shore!”

Hesitantly, he drew her to him and shuffled toward the ledge. She hated his hands on her. Hated that he’d found amusement in this. Hated that she needed his help at all.

After Destonne wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the shore, she shot to her feet and stalked away. The cold air slammed into her and she wrapped her arms around herself, only her molten rage keeping her teeth from chattering as fury baked in her core.

“Asshole,” she growled. “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met!”

Still submerged, Destonne merely shrugged, unbothered by her insult. “I brought other reading material but this book piqued my interest the most, as I’m sure it piqued you in different ways."