Beautiful Seduction

As I moved closer, the fact she continued to wear the evidence of the vicious act pissed me off. She was far too beautiful to be marred by the effects of war. I placed my drink on the table, returning to the bar then grabbing a towel and a bottle of water. When I knelt in front of her, she stirred in her sleep, murmuring words I couldn’t understand.

It was impossible not to enjoy the view. No matter how disheveled her state, how stained her beautiful dress, she was such a stunning woman that I couldn’t stand for her skin to blemished. As soon as I touched the cloth to her face, she awakened with a jerk, her eyes remaining unfocused for a few seconds.

When she realized that her nightmare was very real, she turned her head away. She’d yet to learn that she’d never be able to avoid me.

A part of me wanted to be angry with her, furious enough I added blame to the list of indiscretions. And still the other wanted to drive my cock deep inside, capturing her essence as if needing a drug to keep me alive. There was no reason for it other than the chemistry we shared. We had nothing in common, unless you considered her hatred for the world I’d been born into. Since she was a child, she’d been taught to do the right thing, where my lessons had involved learning to take what I wanted. The difference was stark and cold.

If only her father knew how far she’d fallen.

My angel.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Cassidy. I’m just cleaning your face.”

“Why bother?”

I ignored her comment, continuing to slowly wipe away the ugly stains, furious that I hadn’t forced her out of the club the second I’d seen her.

Her glare was full of hatred and contempt, but her body betrayed her just as mine already had, my cock already swelling from the simple touch. I sensed her arousal, the intensity building as it had the moment I’d touched her in the club. Or at the restaurant.

I craved her even more than before, longing to release the tension and anger, using her in order to do so.

What kind of man did that make me?

The answer was easy for her. She didn’t hide behind who I was or what I could do to her. She told the truth, another virtuous trait that I couldn’t tolerate.

“Because you deserve better,” I answered, meaning the words.

“Yes, I do.”

“We need to talk, Cassidy.”

“Just leave me alone. Can you do that for me? Something? Anything? Or are you just an asshole criminal who enjoys torturing people?”

Her accusation was far more accurate than she understood. My passions extended beyond that of a beautiful woman to the violence I often craved. It soothed the beast, feeding him, the bloodlust often difficult to keep under control.

Instead, I’d replace one need for another in an attempt to satisfy my hunger.

Unfortunately, she would take the brunt, surrendering her body willingly.

And if not? She would learn that I could provide her with extreme pleasure or intense pain. The choice would be hers to make.

Cassidy kept the back of her head pressed against the seat, never blinking, her fingers curled around the armrest. She was doing her best to shut down all her emotions. Good for her. Maybe that would help her deal with being around such a monster.

When I was finished, I took the bloody towels away, returning only seconds later. As I crouched down in front of her again, she bristled, her hatred of me evident in her body language and the way her pupils were small and pointed. When I brushed my fingers down her cheek, slowly trailing them down her neck, she dug her fingers into the armrests, pressing her back against the seat. It was obvious my touch repulsed her where it had once ignited a passion that had remained unrequited for years.

She was fighting with herself, and I could tell her resolve was strong, her need to defy me a protection for her aching heart.

I continued my exploration, rolling my fingers along the bodice of her dress, slowly dragging them between her breasts.

When she tried to push my hand away, I curled my fingers, honoring her wish.

For now.

Soon, her attempt at ignoring me would not be tolerated. I stood, remaining over her, taking several deep breaths. She tilted her head, her lips pursed. I was impressed with her inner strength, her ability to handle difficult situations, but I’d already seen through the façade more than once.

However, this wasn’t the time or the place to act on my hunger. What I did need to do was help her understand that her behavior had nearly gotten her killed and was unacceptable.

“You’re going to be punished.” My statement was said with practiced calm. She’d interfered with my world, something that if it occurred with anyone else, their punishment would be much worse. With her, the lesson I’d provide she wouldn’t soon forget, but I’d refrain from providing my usual methods.