Page 53 of Gilded in Blood

I grin, wiping sweat from my brow. “So… are you ready to admit you were wrong? That you misjudged me?”

He stares at me for a beat, then nods. “Yeah. You can hold your own.”

I smile triumphantly. “See? You don’t need to worry about me so much. I can take care of myself.”

He moves before I can react, crowding me against the mirrored wall. His big body is suddenly very close, heat radiating off him, sweat and raw masculinity filling my senses.

His voice drops low, rough. “That’s where you’re wrong, solnyshko. It’s my job to worry about you. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped making it so damn difficult by ignoring every instruction I give you.”

I tilt my chin up, refusing to back down even though my heart is racing and my skin feels too hot. “You say that like I’m some kind of dog who should just obey every of your instructions.”

His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk. He leans in closer, one hand bracing on the mirror beside my head. “Trust me… you’re no dog. A dog actually listens.”

The air between us crackles. I can feel the heat of his body, the way his eyes drop to my mouth for a fraction of a second. Is he going to kiss me?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Milana

Our faces are so close I can feel his warm breath on my lips.

My heart is hammering so hard I’m sure he can hear it. Just a fraction of an inch more and our mouths would meet.

I want it so badly it aches. I lean in, taking the chance, but right before my lips brush his, he turns his head to the side. My mouth lands on his cheek instead.

The rejection stings instantly. I pull back, heat flooding my face. So it wasn’t in my head. He really doesn’t want to kiss me.

He must see the flash of hurt on my face because his voice drops, low and rough. “I don’t kiss.”

“Oh.” The single word comes out small. I must be reading it wrong. Because it looks like he wants to kiss me.

“It isn’t about you,” he says, his voice low. “I just… don’t kiss.”

Before I can process his words, his large hand slides down my body and cups my sex possessively over my workout leggings. The sudden, firm pressure makes me gasp.

His palm grinds against me, heat radiating through the thin fabric.

“You’re soaked already,” he murmurs, voice dark with satisfaction.

“Yes,” I breathe.

For one fleeting moment, I forget all about his refusal to kiss me.

“Such a greedy little slut. Been wet for me since you were working out, haven’t you?”

I whimper, hips instinctively rolling against his hand. The degradation should offend me. Instead, it sends a fresh rush of arousal between my legs.

He leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Look at you. So desperate to be touched. You act all proper and quiet, but deep down you’re just a needy little whore who wants her tight cunt filled.”

His filthy words draw another helpless sound from me. No one has ever spoken to me like this before.

If they were coming from anyone else, I’d tell them to fuck off.

But from Ilya…

I like it far more than I probably should.

He yanks my top up and over my head, tossing it aside. My sports bra follows quickly. The cool gym air hits my bare breasts, nipples already tight and aching.