Page 109 of The Villain We Tempt

“Get upstairs, Galina,” he growls with just the right amount of menace in his tone.

I grin. “Or?”

Tightness cinches my throat as the Ghost Prince oozes into my personal space.

“OrI might not be able to stop myself from putting you on your hands and knees right here in the dark and stuffing every inch of my cock into that tight virgin pussy,little villain.”

My breath catches as my eyes go wide.

Oh.

For one insane second, I almost keep needling him. Hell, I almost drop to my hands and knees and tell him to do his worst.

But, I mean, there are limits.

“So…” I chew on my lip. “How does this work now?”

A shiver ripples through me as he lightly clasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my gaze directly into the inky blackness of his mask.

“How does what work?”

Heat stains my cheeks. “I mean…” My throat works. “This game of ours.”

“You mean me stalking you?”

My skin sizzles with an electric charge that zips right to my core.

“Yes,” I say. “I…I mean, I…”

“You don’t want me to stop.”

I shake my head side to side decisively, my breath coming quicker.

“Then I won’t,” he murmurs quietly.

We stay standing there in the shadows of the old building, the gleam of the moon glinting off the branches of the trees above us and creating manic white patterns on our faces.

His, masked. Mine, not.

I don’t just mean because I’m literally not wearing one. I mean because there’s something about this man that strips the everyday mask from my face.

He peels back my Persona and lets my Shadow out to play.

My heartbeat quickens as I look up into the blank spaces of his mask where his eyes would be, looking down into mine. For a second, I imagine what it would be like if this were a “normal” date. If he was a normal guy. If I was a normal girl.

I think I’d want him to kiss me. Or maybe I’d kiss him?

The wind blows lightly, shifting the branches and making the moonlight dance across his mask.

I’ve never even seen his face.

I’ve gone further with this man sexually than I ever have withanyone. And I don’t even know his name, or what he looks like.

What color his eyes are. Or his hair.

If he has dimples. Hell, if he ever smiles.

“What’s your name?”