“You think I’m pretty, Doukas?”
My teeth grind as I suppress a groan of frustration.
His eyes drop from mine in favor of my lips the second my tongue darts out to wet them, and a wave of desire rushes through me at the thought of him kissing me.
I might hate him, but damn, if the memories of how good we were together in that graveyard don’t make me crave all the things I shouldn’t.
His knife digs in a little deeper, making my breath catch.
Both of our gazes drop to the blade as a tiny pool of blood surrounds the tip.
Dragging the knife up, Seb swipes his thumb through the redness before lifting it to his lips and sucking it into his mouth.
His eyes darken more than I thought possible until the only thing staring back at me are the dark orbs of the devil.
“Almost as sweet as your cunt,” he murmurs when he pulls his thumb free.
“You’re a—”
“Careful, Hellion. Remember who has the knife.”
“You really think I’m scared of you, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter if I think you are. All you need to know is that you should be.”
Holding my arms out to the side, I say, “Do your worst.”
A wicked smirk curls at his lips, and I focus on that. On the fact that he really thinks he’s got the upper hand here just because he’s the one holding the knife.
I hold his eyes as the blade begins to move once more. He inches my skirt up until he’s at my panties, his own chest beginning to move at a rapid pace, his increased breaths fanning over my face.
Whatever it is he’s thinking about doing with it is really getting him going.
Good.
He’s going to play right into my hands.
“Seb,” I moan again when the blade connects with the lace that’s covering me, only this time I intend for it to make me sound like the whore he’s accused me of being.
His eyes flare and his lips part as he keeps moving.
The blade cuts through the flimsy lace and digs into my skin, but I’ve never had a problem with pain, especially when it’s going to bring me out on top.
I wait with my heart in my throat for the right moment, and I find it not a second later when he pauses and drags in a shaky breath.
Remembering everything Calvin has taught me over the years, I grip Seb’s forearm with one hand, slamming it down on the centre console.
He’s so fucking shocked that he releases the blade without thought.
The metal handle is warm from his grip as I wrap my fingers around it and bring it to his throat.
“Nice fucking try, asshole.”
I press the blade against his skin, forcing him to sit back in his chair.
The desire in his eyes morphs into fury as realization slams into him about what just happened.
“I warned you,” I breathe, getting right in his face much like he was mine not so long ago. “I’m not a fucking toy you can play with, intimidate. I am not that fucking girl, and the sooner you realize that, the better this whole thing will play out for you.”