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I push the thought of him from my mind.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I exit the bathroom and make my way over to the bed where I can tell by Evi’s uneven breathing that she’s pretending to be asleep.

“Come here.”

She doesn’t move.

“I said, come here, Evi,” I say, my voice dropping as it takes on a sharp, forceful edge. I know I shouldn’t use my powers on her, but I can’t help myself.

Evi turns, and I can see her subconscious struggle against being forced to obey flicker through her eyes. She moves to the edge of the bed, where she sits on her knees before me. The shirt I’d given her to wear still open down the center, all she’d have to do is lean over to give me a better view.

“Yes?” she asks, her eyes downcast.

I hesitate, fighting my own desire for her and what I know I shouldn’t do.

Grabbing the edge of the towel in one hand, I pull it off me, allowing it to drop to the floor. I can see her eyes widen even as she forces them to keep staring down at the bed.

“Show me how you were going to beg for my forgiveness. I want to know what habits I need to break you of.”

The excuse sounds just as ridiculous spoken out loud as it did in my mind, but I don’t care. I want to know how far she’ll go.

I need to know.

Evi slowly lifts her eyes to meet mine, and I fight the urge to reach out to pull her to me. To kiss her so deeply that she loses all memory of the men she’s had before.

Tentatively, Evi reaches out, her eyes still locked on mine, to wrap her fingers around me.

The second her fingertips touch me, sheer, agonizing, ecstasy jolts through me … and then she begins to move. Her touch is gentle, too gentle, and yet it’s enough to have me struggling not to fall to my knees.

I step closer, reaching out to steady myself against a bedpost as her hand moves faster. I close my eyes just as she grabs me with both hands, her movements are awkward and rhythm-less but it doesn’t matter.

All I want is more of her touch. To feel the release of decades of pent-up tension.

I want to feel her. To have her.

Opening my eyes, I run my hand through her wet hair, grabbing a handful of it at the back of her head as I jerk her toward me. Her hands drop to brace against my thighs, and I’m so blinded by my own desire to use her that I nearly miss the fear in her eyes.

Her mouth, slightly parted, is just centimeters from me. Close enough for me to feel the heat from her panicked breathing.

I remain frozen for all of a few seconds as I force myself to come to terms with what I’m doing. Releasing my hold on her hair, I carefully remove her hands from my body before stepping back.

“I shouldn’t have done that, Evi. I apologize. I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I say, clearing my throat as I glance away from her, furious with myself.

Much to my surprise, I suddenly feel her hand wrap around me again. I look back as she tries to pull me closer to the bed, and I oblige her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me how to seduce your father?” she asks.

She’s not wrong, but I never actually intended for her to have to be intimate with him ... and this isn’t the training I had in mind for her, not that she seems to realize that.

I could so easily use this to my advantage, but I’m not that kind of man.

Despite my reputation.

“Yes, love, but—”

The words die on my lips as she takes me in her mouth, and a warm wave of pleasure has me reaching for the bedpost again just to keep me standing upright.

I close my eyes, trying to force my mind deeper in an effort to regain control of myself, but it’s impossible as I feel her tongue sweep over me.

I can’t think.

I’m supposed to be the one teaching her about control … not losing it.

And yet, I don’t want her to stop until she’s brought me to my knees.

Blood hell.


Tags: Alice Wilde Romance