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push my friend who can’t speak up for himself, yeah, I’m going to stand up for him.” He lowers his voice to a lethal calm as he presses his weight into me. Tree bark snags on my sweater, and the wounds in my side pulse in time to my thudding heartbeat. “You don’t have the privilege of knowing what Ciro has been through, because you weren’t there for him on the nights he couldn’t remember his name, on the nights when his head was in the toilet because he was trying to drink it all away. You weren’t there when his scars were healing, so you don’t get to know what he’s been through unless he tells you.”

His fierce words penetrate the anger and adrenaline surging through me. I don’t understand exactly what he’s talking about, but the hints he’s given me of Ciro’s past are enough to make my stomach turn over.

My chest rises and falls with my heavy breaths, brushing up against his with every movement. The tips of my fingers are freezing, reminding me of the cold, but every inch of my body that Hale touches is on fire.

“Why the hell do you care so much, Hale?” I bite out, squeezing my hands between us to shove against his pecs. “You’ve always been an asshole. Since when did you give a shit about how anybody feels but yourself?”

I’m playing with fire. I know that.

But I can’t stop.

His heart pounds against my palms as I wait for him to move his body, but he doesn’t. His legs are pressed against my thighs, his body caging me in. The heat of my skin could melt the snow around us, and I flush when I realize what part of him is pressing into me.

“I care about Ciro.” His voice is hard. “A hundred times more than I care about you. So we’re gonna stay right here until you fucking apologize. Are you ready to say you’re sorry?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m not apologizing for being curious.”

He grits his teeth, smiling like a wolf. Feral. Predatory. “Then it looks like we’re gonna be here for a while.”

He still doesn’t move, and I try to look past his shoulder, suddenly wondering how far away from the car we are. The low sun illuminates Hale’s face, casting shadows that only serve to highlight the vicious angles of his features. We’re alone out here. Just me and him.

Me and this beast of a man.

I try to shift away from him, but I’m met only with a tightening of his grip and the familiar hardness pressing into my stomach. My core clenches. It’s so wrong—everything about this is wrong.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” I blurt, my voice raspy with a mix of anger and desire. “You act so outraged by everything I do, but maybe that’s just because you like punishing me so much. It seems to me you like being provoked.”

To prove my point, I grind my hips against him, punishing both him and myself. He’s hard as steel against me, reminding me of everything that happened in the bedroom earlier—every stroke of his fingers, every touch of his hands.

“Are you still pissed?” My lips curl in a sneer as I move my hips again. “Is your dick pissed off, Hale?”

“Fuck.”

He bites out the word as his hands settle on my hips, digging his fingers into my flesh to still my movements. He’s strong, but I still arch my back against his hold, feeling his cock jerk in response. I watch as his jaw muscles ripple and his nostrils flare.

He’s glaring down at me like he wants to fucking kill me, although he hasn’t stepped away. He meant what he said earlier. He’s not going to move until I apologize.

But he forgets—I can be just as stubborn as he is, and I’m not going to let him win this time.

I tilt my chin up, my lips almost brushing his.

“Am I a weakness to you?” I whisper as the warmth of his exhale fans my mouth, a teasing touch.

His gaze snaps to mine, his cobalt eyes flashing.

There, I think. Gotcha.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I smile fiercely, a swell of victory rising in my chest at the knowledge. Hale hates me because I’m his weakness. Because this man who thrives on control loses it around me.

“Stop it,” he says quietly, a dark warning in his tone.

But I don’t.

“Is that why you did what you did back at the house? Because you just couldn’t help yourself?” I use the tree behind me as leverage to press my body closer to his, taunting him. His fingers sink deeper into the flesh of my hips, but I ignore that warning too.

“Grace…”

My lip curls as I stare defiantly up at him. “You made it seem like I was the weak one for giving in, for needing to come, but you’re worse than I am, aren’t you? I’m a prisoner, Hale.” I shift my hips again. “Tell me. Who are you a prisoner of?”


Tags: Eva Ashwood The Dark Elite Romance