Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
The lock clicks as he stares at me.
"What are you…?"
That's as far as I get before he's on top of me, backing me up against the door. His lips come down on mine in a hungry kiss, and I taste the beer on his breath. Part of my mind screams at me to push him away. The other part shouts for me to pull him closer. That traitorous part wins.
I shove my hands into his hair, kissing him back like he's oxygen. He groans against my mouth, pushing me harder against the door.
"You taste like wine," he mutters, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip.
"Then stop kissing me." Finally, something sensible.
"Make me."
I try. Really, I do. Or maybe I don't. I don't even know anymore. But we don't stop kissing. He runs his hands down my body, setting little fires everywhere he touches me. And I'm going to hell for it, but I melt to every damn touch, whimpering.
My dress slides up my legs, his fingers slipping against my skin.
I need to stop this. I need…
"Oh god," I whimper, my head thumping against the door as he presses his palm to my center, sending flows of lava through my veins. I don't mean to do it, but I grind against him, eager for more.
"If you love him, stop me, Zoya."
"I…I…"
His finger slips beneath my panties, tracing a decadent path down my slit, and I forget what I'm supposed to do. Why stop when it feels this damn good? What even is stopping at this point?
I moan against his mouth, sobbing in frustration. I can't think straight. I'm not even sure I'm breathing at this point. He's right where I need him, and it's not nearly enough.
How am I supposed to resist heaven?
His finger traces along my slit again. "Did staring at me all night make you this wet, princess?"
"No. Yes." I whimper in frustration. "Please, Jareth."
"Please, what? Tell me what you want me to do to you."
"T-touch me."
He runs his finger along my slit again, nipping at my bottom lip, before he stops. He. Just. Freaking. Stops. "No."
I gape up at him, turned on, confused, sexually frustrated. And contemplating murder. It's justified right now. "No?"
"No," he repeats. "Not until you tell me that you're mine."
Oh, I am going to kill him. Slowly. Maybe drown him in the sink before I flush his body down the toilet. I doubt anyone would even miss him.
I stare at him for a long moment and then lift up on my toes, pressing my lips to his ear like I'm about to give him what he wants.
"I'm not yours," I growl in his ear instead, right before kneeing him in the thigh. Hard.
He grunts, doubling forward, which allows me to slip past him.
The loss of his heat against my body is devastating. But I'm too damn mad to care about that right now.
"Touch me again, and I'll smother you in your sleep."
"Just so long as it means you're in my room, princess," he calls, chuckling as I stomp out into the hall.
Naturally, Connor is standing right there. His eyes widen when they lock on Jareth standing in the bathroom doorway. He glances between us, clearly not sure how to handle the situation. "Uh…"
"Problem with the plumbing," Jareth lies. "It can be a little prickly at times unless you have the right touch. Luckily, I know just how to handle it."
I think I hate him. He's the literal devil.
He grins at Connor as he steps out into the hall. "It's all taken care of now." He smirks as he strides past us, probably happy as hell that Connor caught us in the bathroom together. In his eyes, he probably imagines it ending with a big dramatic fight and Connor dumping me. I'm sure that's probably how the story is supposed to go. Except for the fact that Connor and I aren't really dating, and he's more attracted to Jareth than he is to me.
Why did I think any of this was a good idea?
"We're leaving," I growl at Connor, looping my arm through his. "We have something important to take care of. It can't wait."
Jareth tenses, missing a step, and I know he heard me, exactly like I intended. But I don't feel satisfied. I just feel…guilty.
Crap. Am I actually falling for him?
No. No way.
Except…that isn't hatred burning in my chest, is it?
Chapter Six
Jareth
The sun hasn't even crested the horizon before Zoya slips out the front door, moving like she's trying to avoid being detected. It's cute that she thinks she can sneak away and avoid me. That shit isn't happening though.
I let her get far enough ahead to avoid detection and then slip out behind her, following her path through the vineyard. She strides toward the guesthouse, only to stop halfway there, muttering to herself. She glances back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed. But I know she doesn't see me. I'm lurking in the shadows like they're my goddamn home.