Page 75 of How Does It Feel?

As if by his command, the door closed on its own, and the clink of a lock echoed across the walls of the large bed chamber.

“Get out. Now,” I commanded, frantically looking around for some type of weapon, but his room was empty other than a few basics.

I settled on a large bronze candlestick that sat on one of the nightstands, hastily collecting it in my trembling hands.

“This is my room,” he stated, casually crossing his arms.

“Send the maids back in, or I will bludgeon you with your own candlestick!” I shouted wildly, feeling feral from fighting the nocturneye and the maids with no rest.

His beautiful blue eyes suddenly danced with challenge. His entire person began to fade as faint charcoal smoke rose around him.

My back was slammed against the wall, my arms pinned together above my head, as he reappeared directly in front of me.

“You—” I growled through clenched teeth as blood whooshed in my ears.

He pressed his body against mine as the wall dug painfully against the wounds of my back.

“How did you know to stab the nocturneye under its wing?” he cut me off.

His hard body dwarfed mine as his hard eyes trailed my mouth. His face was still expressionless, but his eyes sparkled with a dangerous fire as he bent his tall, muscular form to further cage me in. Had it been anyone else in that moment, the steady pressure would have been a calming relief, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was Mendax, and it somehow seemed to set me off more, feeling the heat of his hard body pressed against me. The contact sizzled my burned-out nerves.

“I saw where you had stabbed the winged man at the ball. They were both winged. It was a calculated guess,” I bit out as I struggled against the palm that easily held both my wrists.

He smiled wide. The action changed his entire face into a disarmingly alluring man as the scar on his cheek dimpled. That was the most expression I had seen of him since the rooftop.

“That sounds exactly like something an assassin would say.”

“I am not an assassin. If I was, believe me, I would have already killed you by now!” I shouted, pushing my body defiantly into his as hard as I could.

The closeness and feel of both of us pushing our bodies together felt like an electric shock to my frenzied system. I felt everything.

“I think I underestimated whoever sent you to distract me,” he rasped as he continued to push his frame against mine.

My eyes flickered shut with the feel of his ungodly firm body pressing against me, and the clean scent of dark vanilla and amber clouded my senses.

“You ought to have allowed the lady’s maids to help you. You’re bleeding all over my wall.” His warm wisps of breath ghosted across my face and neck as if it were fingertips touching my adrenalized skin.

“Good, I hope I stain it,” I bit out softly.

“Get on the bed so I can bandage you, and you’ll stop bleeding all over the place.” His husky voice trailed across my collarbone like soft velvet before he cleared his throat.

“I will die before I let you touch me,” I snarled, still fighting against what my body seemed to crave.

“As you wish, pet,” he whispered as he pinned me tightly against the wall.

The hand that wasn’t holding my wrists reached out and slowly parted around my neck like a caress, his thumb on one side, fingers on the other.

Reluctantly my eyes flickered shut at the contact. He began gently at my collarbone before slowly caressing his open palm up my neck and closing just under my jaw.

I wriggled against him, trying to escape his hold, but each shifting movement seemed only to encourage him.

My eyes flew open. When had I closed them?

The feel of his hard arousal pressed against my stomach, a startling reminder of what was happening.

“Touch me, and you will regret it,” I threatened as his forehead pressed against mine.

Why did it feel so right being pressed against him like this?