Knox pulled away slowly with his forehead still resting against mine, breathing hard as he glared at me as if I’d been the one to kiss him instead of it being the other way around. There were storm clouds in his eyes, shadows of the sweetest darkness I’d ever witnessed danced within them, and I craved to taste it on my flesh. We fought to gain control of our breathing, and the moment before I had mine under control, he stood, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him, jolting me back to reality with the cool aloofness of who I’d just kissed, and what I’d allowed to happen.
“What the fuck just happened?” I whispered, touching my swollen lips.
The man kissed like he was going to war, and my mouth was an enemy he wanted to destroy. It was brutal and yet beautiful. I wanted to feel it again, to see if it happened again. I’d had boys touch my lips, but never anyone as terrifying or like Knox.
The man didn’t just kiss; he fucking dominated you, and you went with it or got destroyed in the wake. My lips tingled, rejoicing with having been given my first taste of real passion, and yet it was Knox who had given it to me. No, Knox hadn’t given it, he’d demanded it, and then he’d glared at me as if I was the one who had started it.
Had it scared him as much as it had terrified me? No, he was Knox, and I was just some wishy-washy witch to him. But damn, it had been like making out with a power line, the electrical sizzle that still rushed through me was everything I’d ever wanted, and yet I hated that it was him. The one prick who treated me like I was nothing, and now I’d remember him for the rest of my life and compare everyone else to him and his stupid, superb, really fucking sexy mouth.
I hated him! I loathed him more than I ever had hated another human being, and yet I craved him. I desired the connection I felt from him, which was all wrong and twisted.
Lying back, I stared at the ceiling, unable to take my fingers away from my swollen lips. I should have stopped him. I should have slapped the conceited, condescending asshole who liked to toss me about like I was something he could break and be completely okay with breaking. I was stupid to think the kiss meant anything, but then why kiss me at all? To be my first? Probably.
He’d known I’d never tasted the kiss of another, and wouldn’t he be a smug prick out telling his men he’d just claimed it? He sucked. I needed to act cool tomorrow when I saw him, ignore him, and pretend he hadn’t just delivered the perfect first kiss.
I could do that, right? Right.
Fuck him.
Chapter 24
I woke up with someone’s hand touching my leg. Turning over, I stared into the amber eyes of the male I’d punched in the throat the first time I came to Knox’s house, carrying a bottle of whiskey. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them back, moving onto the bed as I winced at the pain in my head. He watched me before reaching up to push his platinum-colored hair behind his pointed ear, which I strained to see through bloodshot eyes. I couldn’t have awoken any faster had the ceiling been caving in on my head.
“You wear his name on you well, don’t you sweetie,” he chuckled huskily, tilting his head while studying me. “That explains his decree.”
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, turning to face him, uncaring that it exposed my back to the open door, but then I was wearing a thong, and it covered more than most swimsuits did this year. Soon, they were just going to be putting up stickers for your asshole and charging out the ying-yang just to cover them. “I asked you a question.”
“Calm your pretty tits, girl. I’m here to wake you up and deliver you to the dining room. Clothes are in the bathroom. I suggest you start by washing that unsated flesh before you start a fucking riot.” He lay back, dismissing me while folding his arms behind his head. “Go, because if there’s no food, you will be my breakfast, witch, and I’m fucking ravenous right now.”
I pulled the blanket around me and rushed into the bathroom, glaring at the lack of a lock or a way to bar the door from the entrance. Inside the room lay a pile of clothes, but they weren’t mine. A white dress created in lace unfolded the moment I touched it, and beneath it was a garter, along with nylons and high heels that looked more like fuck-me heels than anything else.
They had brought in my makeup bag as I’d slept, along with my shampoo and conditioner. I sniffed the dress, noting that it hadn’t been laundered in our laundry soap but smelled clean, and not like anyone else.
It took me less than thirty minutes to dress, and when all that remained on the counter were the nylons and garter, I slipped into the stiff shoes and realized it wasn’t something I could forget. Swallowing down frustration, I grabbed the items, staring at them and the small straps that appeared to connect to the thigh-high nylons.
“Need help?” he called from the other room.
“No.”
The dress itself was a white maxi spaghetti-strap dress, which meant no bra could be worn with it—which, whatever, not a problem. It would expose the thigh-highs when walking or sitting by the single slit that stopped just below the top of my thigh.
That part didn’t impress me, which I wasn’t so sure was an oversight by whoever had picked out the dress. Once I slipped the nylons and garter on, and looked at my reflection, I smiled. My lips were cherry red, and my eyes looked larger, more striking with the thin line of eyeliner and mascara.
Exiting the bathroom, I stared at the male who opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. He stood up, staring at where the slit in the dress rose higher than it should, and his smile twisted into something sinister.
“After you, beautiful,” he stated, holding his hand out toward the door.
I moved toward the door, ignoring him as best as I could even though he made a strangled noise behind me. I barely contained a snort when Brander exited a room beside mine, watching me as his gaze dropped to the deep V-neck of the bodice, allowing him to see the raven that flew toward my heart in the middle of my breasts.
“Morning,” he uttered, wiping his hand over his mouth as I passed by him.
“Good morning, Brander,” I said dismissively, feeling like a doll who’d been dressed up to show off.
The moment we entered the dining room, I paused. It was full of alphas, and I had no magic in my arsenal to defend myself. The male behind me paused and waited silently. The table was covered in meats, with a single dish of pineapple on it. My heart slammed against my chest at the sheer amount of raw, unguarded power and testosterone in the small room. It was a formula for disaster.
“Aria.” Knox’s voice pulled me from the need to bolt. “On my right, sweetheart,” he said huskily.
Frowning at his endearment, I glared at him while making my way to him. He stood the moment I approached and moved to kiss me, but I pulled back, narrowing my eyes on his. Had he bumped his ever-loving head this morning?
“Sit, you’ve not had your breakfast and are looking peckish, my love.”
I frowned, watching as his eyes warned me silently not to argue with him. My mouth wanted to; in fact, it had a lot to say, and yet I bit my tongue and smiled demurely, or I gave it my best try for one. My head pounded, and the noise of the room intensified the headache. Maybe tequila hadn’t been such a good idea last night.
I pushed my unbound hair away from my shoulders as he held my chair out for me. Taking a seat, I stared down the line of alphas surrounding the table, all looking like they’d rather be eating my heart instead of the impressive spread of food. I couldn’t calm the increasing rate of my heart, and the fact that his bitch, Regina, was eating with us on his left didn’t help me either.