Lion's Dangerous(Kings of the Jungle #1)(39)

"I know what you wanted," he finished, his voice so dark, so close to a purr that her core went soft. They stared at each other, her wide-eyed and him with gleaming golden slits below heavy lids, until Lily's breath hitched and she glanced away.

When Jude spoke again, the purr was gone but he hadn't quite filed down the rough edge to his voice. "I was looking for the man you were with on the chance he had any information. I was not looking for you, but if you want me to apologize for finding you, that's not going to happen. The only part of the night I regret is that I left you to come back down alone.

"If you expect me to forget … well, that's not going to happen either. I remember the way you came alive in my hands last night, Lily. You won't forget that any more than I will. When you go back to the Jungle, I'm going to know you whether you wear a mask or not. And unless you forbid me from playing with you, I'm going to do it again. And you'll recognize me when I do."



       
         
       
        

What he didn't say, but she instinctively knew, was that as long as she held his interest, no other man at the Jungle would even look at her. His arrogance-his power-should have turned her off. In any other man, they would have. She'd always responded to the dark promise of sexual control, but the desire to surrender her life-any aspect of it-had never manifested the way it did in some women who deeply craved submission and mastery.

The Jungle's rules kept her from complete freedom to do what and whom she pleased, but those were limitations she chose to respect in the name of a side of safety with her gratification. But there were rules, and then there were laws. She'd bared herself in shifter territory. Even if she didn't know the intricacies of shifter social life, she knew wild animals lived by a code of life and death-obey the code, or die.

She should have known …

Well, she had known, hadn't she? Somewhere deep inside, she'd recognized that Jude was a man with the power to lay a real claim on her. That was why she'd forced herself to walk away from him in the first place.

"I'll find another club," she finally said, clinging to a shred of her tattered good sense. If he was telling the truth, and despite her insinuation that he'd stalled in order to make up a story, she believed he was, encountering him again wasn't the only risk in returning. She was her own worst enemy. Always had been. But maybe she could be her own sharpest weapon, too, maybe there was part of her that would turn this man, with the alpha vibe simmering beneath his skin, away from her. With a deep breath, she announced, "I'm not a bottom all the time. That isn't something I need to live. "

A slight smile quirked his lips. Even before he spoke, she knew she'd made a mistake. His eyes, suddenly hot, gave him away an instant before he purred, "Prove it."

The low timbre of his voice stroked her skin, confident and direct. He may as well have been touching her with his bare hands. Her response would've been the same-heat between her legs, a return of the desire to climb astride him and grind her pussy down against his cock, which now stood stiff behind his fly.

Her eyes narrowed as her stubborn streak flared.





13





"Prove it, Lily. Show me what else you have hiding behind those eyes of yours." He crooked his fingers, beckoning her closer. "Door's locked. So prove you won't give every time I stand behind you and demand."

"I have nothing to prove to you," she replied stiffly.

"Maybe not. But I can tell from here that you've got something to prove to yourself." 

She stood silent, staring at him with fire in her eyes. Jude wouldn't have put money on the source of the red stain across her high cheekbones. From where he sat, fury or arousal made no difference. She was hot as hell either way.

While he watched and waited, balls aching and his dick as hard as granite, her eyes changed. She adopted an invisible mask. And reached back. The sound of a zipper hissed in the silence.

"I don't have anything to prove," she repeated evenly. The snug-fitting material of her skirt loosened at her hips. She slid her thumbs behind the waistband and shimmied once. The black sheath slid down her legs and puddled on the floor.

Killer heels. Black fishnet thigh-highs. Scarlet panties, matching garter belt, six inches of pale, bare flesh before her red corset nipped the dip of her waist. The look was so damn out of place in a yarn store. She was one step removed from dirty librarian and it was hot as hell. Jude had never guessed himself to be a lingerie man but he found himself with a new appreciation for corsets and stockings.