“It’s possible,” I whispered.
That hand slid forward, curving over the top of my shoulder and wrapping around to the front of my throat. He squeezed lightly, watching goosebumps rise on my skin in response with an arrogant smirk. He leaned in, placing his mouth just beside my ear as he trailed his hand farther and snagged my bottom lip with his thumb.
“The next time you lie to me, I’m likely to make it so that you cannot speak at all.”
“Good luck with that,” I said, huffing a laugh against his thumb as I pulled back. It pressed my ass into his thighs, the bare skin of my back touching his chest and sending a jolt of pain through me. “Unless you intend to gag me, you’re unlikely to be able to shut me up.”
“You would definitely be gagging, Witchling,” he growled, and the bolt that shot through me was one of shock.
Oh.
Swallowing, I forced that moment to pass and slid back into the carefully controlled persona. The seducer who would be anything, do anything, if it meant finding those bones.
“Promises, promises,” I murmured, nipping at his thumb.
His responding growl rumbled in my ear, tightening things low in my stomach that I didn’t even begin to understand. It shouldn’t have been attractive to have him growl at the thought of gagging me on his cock. He pulled me tighter into his chest, pressing his hard length into the small of my back.
I swallowed, arching my back at the touch.
“If I bent you over the sink right now and fucked you, you’d welcome every minute of it, wouldn’t you?” he asked, but he made no move to do just that.
I couldn’t decide if the swoop in my belly was appreciation or disappointment when he spun me to face him, backing me toward the bare wall beside the bathtub. I didn’t answer his question, couldn’t find the words to respond.
I knew what I should say, knew what my body wanted me to say as I tipped my head back and stared up at him through my lashes. But I couldn’t force myself to acknowledge it, couldn’t give him that satisfaction, even though my duty demanded it of me.
“A girl has needs,” I said, shrugging as if the person filling them was inconsequential.
His lip peeled back to reveal his fangs as he glared down at me like the problem I was.
“Love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress as he leaned forward.
His forearm rested on the wall above my head as he raised his free hand to cup my cheek with mock tenderness. It shifted to my throat once again, pushing back until my head smacked against the wall lightly. He kept his grip there, pinning me as I squirmed beneath the hold. Raising my hands, I clawed at the bare skin of his forearm.
“What did I tell you about lying to me?”
He restricted my breathing just enough that I wheezed when I tried to speak, reminding me that if we came to blows, I would lose. It wouldn’t just be the opportunity to seduce him that would be lost, but I also didn’t stand a chance of fighting him one-on-one without any plants around me. Whoever had decided putting witches in a building was the best way was a fucking moron, because I belonged to the woods—to the gardens and anywhere but here.
My only hope was the stone. I glanced at the tile floor out of the corner of my eye, dropping a single arm to guide it up.
My focus was gone in the next moment, when Gray seemed to realize what I intended. He moved quickly, my eyes snapping to his face as it crashed down on mine. His lips were on me immediately, bruising in intensity as he devoured my mouth.
His fangs brushed against my lips, tearing open the flesh as he pried me open for him. I obeyed, parting for him and letting his tongue surge inside. My hands abandoned his forearms, pressing against his chest. I only pushed for a moment, protesting the touch we both knew I wanted.
That I shouldn’t want but would be lying to deny.
Then they curled into his shirt, grasping it and wrinkling the fabric to pull him closer. His groan came from low in his throat, filling my ear, and his body pressed tighter until I felt his cock against my stomach.
“Fuck, you’re impossible,” he said, pulling back just enough to mumble the words against my mouth.
I growled at him, reaching up to bury a hand in his hair. The dark, inky strands were soft in my fingers, sliding through as I gripped them harshly and dragged his mouth back to mine. Each sweep of his tongue against mine was a brand, a claim of ownership I should have fought against.
Instead, I sank deeper into his touch, pulling him where I wanted him as his body shifted. He pulled back just enough, sliding the hand at my throat down until he brushed the skin of my breast. He swallowed my startled gasp, smiling into me as he kneaded the flesh. Pressing harshly, squeezing and testing the weight of it, he chuckled as he found my nipple and ran his fingers over it.