Page 47 of Once Upon a Fable

It’s just sex.

Just physical, nothing more.

Just an act that doesn’t mean a thing.

Raising my stare, I embraced every icy crystal in my blood from sleeping in this tomb and said as clearly, clinically, and coldly as possible. “My offer...is me.”

His eyebrows tugged low, shadowing his dark eyes. A spark of lust gleamed over his pupils. His nostrils flared as if scenting my disgust at such an offering, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. Once again, he looked at me as if his gaze could strip me, finger me, tongue me, and claim me.

My nipples pebbled as he stared at my breasts and licked his bottom lip. My core tingled with disgusting acknowledgment as he looked between my legs and made a cauldron of hate and unwanted need answer back.

The power he held over his sexuality was the worst kind of weapon. The fact that he didn’t hide what he thought. That I knewexactlywhat he felt when he studied me. That he was moments away from snappingand mounting. That my offer had removed the shackles he’d put around his wrists, granting an almost sickening kind of disappointment.

He’d been looking forward to the fight. He’d wanted to be told no.

Why?

To humiliate me further? Because he had secrets of his own when it came to sex?

Either way, he nodded once, and a soft growl rumbled in his chest. “You.”

I curled my hands. “I’ll...do whatever you ask if you allow me to live and let me go.”

His eyes narrowed, pinning me to the floor. “Kneel.”

I blinked.

I opened my mouth to question, to argue.

He just wiped a hand over his lips and repeated in a guttural whisper, “Kneel.”

Had he accepted my offer, or was this a test?

Goosebumps multiplied over my body. I’d never been so powerless, so stripped of choice or refusal.

“Kneel!” he snarled, making me jump.

My knee nudged the PLB, tipping it over. The clunk was a reminder of why I’d offered, why I had to do this. With shaking hands, I righted the locator beacon and made sure the antenna faced toward the sky.

And then, I pushed aside my untouched, possibly poisoned breakfast and kneeled.

His harsh inhale made my stomach clench in ways I didn’t want to analyze. The heady huff of a male who didn’t hold back how desperate he was. How much his body burned. How much his lust broke him.

If I wasn’t being forced, I would’ve found his desire the headiest aphrodisiac. My skin would’ve scorched beneath his intensity. My core would’ve melted. My legs would’ve trembled to open.

In all my searchings for a suitable partner, I’d never come across a man who affected me on such a visceral level. A level devoid of humanity and conversation. We’d spoken a handful of words to each other, yet the heaviness of his need blanketed me.

It made my skin sizzle and my breasts burn. It made me sway on my knees as I forced myself to make eye contact with him and wait.

For an eternity, he just stared at me.

The longer he stared, the darker his stare became. He began to tremble, his hands shaking, his body quaking, his lust shattering him from the inside out. A part of him looked ferocious, like any killer, rapist, or devil in history. But the other part of him looked bewildered, afraid, and recklessly inexperienced.

My heart pounded so hard, I heard it in my ears, I felt it in my veins. I swore he could hear its rapid rhythm, slamming drums against the basement walls.

Suddenly, he shot to his feet.

His bare toes planted onto the damp concrete, kicking away his mostly empty plate without thought. Taking two steps toward me, he stood overme. Towered above me as he reached down with his left hand and dug strong fingers through my leaf-tangled hair.