Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

“Now, are you going to strip, or are you going to lie to yourself and pretend that this wasn’t what you wanted when you came here to see me?”

The cocky prick.

I arch a brow. “You can’t have me yet.”

His eyes flare with challenge. “Is that so?”

My hand waves toward the balcony. “It’s still daylight. Which means you can’t touch me.” I let a smug smile cross my face.

But Slade doesn’t look deterred. In fact, he starts prowling over to me, and the sly look he wears makes my own grin falter. “Why do you think I asked you to undress yourself?” he purrs as he comes closer. “If I could touch you right now, I’d already be doing it. Like I said, we have about half an hour, but just because I’m forced to wait until I slide my hands over your luscious body doesn’t mean we can’t have plenty of enjoyment in the meantime.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” My heart slams against my chest, and I retreat as he keeps coming forward until my back hits the wall.

“I wholeheartedly disagree.”

He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me, his hands coming up to brace on either side of my head. His power presses against my skin, making chills scatter down the side of my neck. In one inhale, I breathe in his scent like it’s my very own aphrodisiac.

This dangerous closeness is heightening everything. Desire coils between us so thick that I can taste it. The temptation of him is just a breath away, and yet, we can’t touch.

Not yet.

Holding back from him is its very own sweet agony of craving ache.

When Slade inches his face closer to my ear, I don’t dare move or blink or even breathe.

His voice is a seductive grit of palpable hunger that has my ribbons twisting on the floor and my own want surging. My eyes flutter closed as his words stroke my ear and slip inside to settle beneath my ribs like they carry their own beat.

“It’s fucking torture to have you stand there and tell me you want me, and not be able to do anything about it. But I’m a patient male, and as soon as I’m able, I’m going to touch and taste every inch of you. I’m going to have you writhing and begging, and I’ll give you every bit of pleasure I can wring from your delectable body,” he murmurs in a wicked promise. “The moment that sun dips, Goldfinch, you’re mine.”

Chapter 30

AUREN

I have never wanted someone as much as I want this male. I have never felt as wanted as Slade makes me feel.

My chest heaves, my heart pelting out a percussion against my ribs that somehow matches the timbre of Slade’s carnal promise.

“Tell me, Auren.”

I didn’t even realize I’d let my eyes flutter closed until I spring them open again, my head braced against the wall behind me, Slade hooking me against it with forbidden closeness. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me again that you want this. That I can have all of you. I want to hear it.”

Parched heat forces me to lick my lips, and Slade’s eyes flare as he watches my tongue drag across before I can answer him. “I won’t ever be an object for someone to possess ever again, but I don’t think that’s quite what you mean.”

“It’s not,” he replies, the flames behind him bedecking his silhouette in its gleam. “I don’t want to be your master, Auren. I’m not asking to keep you like property. I’m asking you to give me your all and not hold back, because I’m far too deep with you to settle for anything less. It’s what our fae nature demands. It is what I will demand. Once I have you, I’m not going to give you up.”

“I don’t want you to,” I whisper, and the vulnerability I let slip softens his eyes. The green of them is so deep it reminds me of the darkest grass at the very cusp of summer. Of sunburnt moss burnt against shoreline rocks. It’s the green of secret forests so thick no one ever attempts to traverse them. But me, I’d let myself get lost in it just to remind myself of this moment.

“Undress for me, Goldfinch,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

I bite my lip with hesitation, though my body pulses. “Promise you won’t touch me yet.”

“Until the sun sets.” He makes it sound like a sensuous warning, and I find myself shivering when he pulls away. I miss his presence immediately, even if our proximity was entirely too dangerous. The fact that he even would be that close to me during daylight is a big deal. He trusts me enough to be a mere breath away. He wants me enough to risk it.

Slade walks out onto the balcony and drags in a chair, the iron feet scraping against the floor as it comes to a stop in front of the fire. He shuts out the wintry air with a click before striding back over, and then sits down with a cocked brow. “I’ll stay right here in this spot.”

The breath I let out is shaky, but not in fear. Instead, I’m full of anticipation.