Sinful Night

Seraphina's POV

I said, "You shouldn't be here," my voice quivering as much as the wine glass in my hand.

The individual living in the dismal corner of the private chamber did not answer right away. His sharp blue gaze caught on me, fastening me. Though the room was dark, I could still see his arrogant lip tilt and sharp angles on his face.

At last, his voice low, dark, and stunningly menacing, he said, "I couldn't stay away."

My pulse accelerated. Trying to look cool, I placed my drink on the fine bar counter. "This is a mistake," I whispered, but I didn't even think it was genuine. Too fast my heart was thumping for me to think properly. " Whatever you think is going to happen tonight-it won't."

He drew closer, his presence absorbing the space between us. "Is that so?"

I nodded, but my resolve slipped as he leaned out and traced his fingertips softly over my wrist. His touch scorched, a burning that kindled something primitive inside me. I loathed how easy he could unravel me with just a look, just a touch.

"Tell me to leave, Seraphina," he said, his voice like silk and steel. "Tell me, and I will. But if you don't..." His fingers lingered, his thumb making little, torturous circles on my flesh.

I swallowed hard, torn between running and yielding. This man, this stranger, had come into my life like a cyclone out of nowhere. One chance encounter at a bar had affected everything, and now he was here, crashing into my carefully guarded existence.

"You don't even know me," I whispered, more to persuade myself than him.

"Maybe not," he agreed, his lips twisting into a mischievous sneer. "But I know enough. Enough to know that you're not as put-together as you claim to be. Enough to comprehend you're bored of being the ideal Seraphina Blake everyone expects. And enough to know that you want this as much as I do."

I took my hand away, seeking to reclaim some sense of control. "You don't know what I want," I cried, my voice harsher than I wished.

He didn't flinch. If anything, his smile deepened. "Then tell me I'm wrong," he challenged. "Say the words, and I'll leave you alone."

I opened my lips to answer, but no words came out. Because the thing was, I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him here, even if it worried me. Even if it was foolish and risky and utterly out of character.

The first time I saw him, I assumed he was simply another affluent man with a stunning face and an overinflated ego. He had been sitting at the VIP area of the club, watching me with a sneer that made my skin shake and my heart swell. I'd gone there to blow off steam, to forget about the ongoing stress of running a failed business. I hadn't been seeking anything-or anyone.

But then our eyes met, and everything changed.

"You're silent, Seraphina," he noted, his voice drawing me back to the present. "Should I take that as a yes?"

"No," I answered swiftly, but the word lacked conviction. I took a step back, seeking to put some distance between us. "I don't do this. I don't... I'm not this person."

"What person?" he answered, coming closer. "The person who takes what she wants? The person who quits attempting to be flawless for everyone else and just... lives?"

I felt the wall on my back and recognized too late that I'd locked myself. He was so close now, his scent-something rich and intoxicating-filling the air between us. My breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips just inches from mine.

"This is a bad idea," I whispered, yet my body misled me, leaning toward him despite my words.

"Sometimes the worst ideas are the ones worth pursuing," he continued, his voice a deep, seductive growl. "Tell me to stop, Seraphina."

I should have told him to stop. I should have gone away. But instead, I closed the space between us, my lips slamming into his in a kiss that was all fire and intensity.