Serpentine Desires

The prey

After we finished the meal in a silence thick enough to cut with a knife, he slid a dessert plate in front of me—a rich, decadent slice of chocolate pie. The aroma was sweet, almost intoxicating, a stark contrast to the tension that hung between us. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady, waiting, like he knew I wouldn't refuse. 

"Eat," he commanded. But there was a flicker in his eyes, something darker, more intimate.

As much as I tried to ignore it, I was fatally attracted to that darkness in some sense.

I picked up the fork, and took a small bite, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on my mouth. The chocolate melted on my tongue, warm and rich, and I fought the urge to close my eyes, knowing he'd take it as some kind of conquest.

"Good?" His voice was low, his fingers tracing the edge of his own plate, his thumb rubbing over the rim slowly, like he was imagining it was something else entirely. The subtle gesture sent a ripple of heat through me, unwelcome but undeniable.

I nodded, unwilling to give him more than that. But he was relentless. He watched me with that predatory intensity, leaning forward so his hand brushed mine under the table, his touch deliberate.

"Another bite, ptichka." His gaze dropped to my lips as I did, his stare unyielding, a silent promise that he was nowhere near done with me. "You look like you're savouring every bit," he murmured, his voice a rough caress. "But you know... there's something sweeter, isn't there?"

My heart pounded, his implication sinking in, the words rich with a sinful promise that made me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"You're delusional if you think this is going anywhere," I whispered, hating the way my voice came out breathier than I intended.

He chuckled, low and dark, leaning in close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek. "Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better." His fingers brushed a lock of hair away from my face, lingering against my cheek. "But you and I both know you're a terrible liar."

I looked away, fighting against the wave of warmth that threatened to betray me. But he wouldn't let me go that easily. He reached for my chin, tilting my face back toward him, his thumb grazing my lips, daring me to push him away.

"Why fight what we both want?" he whispered, his voice soft, dangerous. "It would be so easy, little bird. So easy to let go. To let me have you."

I swallowed hard, my thoughts racing. I needed to get out of here, to escape the twisted pull he had on me. But how? My gaze darted toward the window, but his hand caught my wrist, pulling me back into his orbit before I could even make a move.

"Oh, don't even think about it," he murmured, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, firm but not painful. "I'd catch you before you even reached the door." He brought my hand to his lips, brushing them over my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. "And then... I'd make sure you'd never think of running again."

"Judas..." My voice was a shaky whisper, but he just grinned, that dark, maddening smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Yes?" he said, his tone mocking, like he already knew whatever I'd say wouldn't change a thing. His lips moved to my wrist, brushing over my pulse point, sending a wave of heat through me. "You know, the more you fight me, the more I want you."

"Then you'll be waiting a long time," I bit out, though the way my body responded betrayed me, a shiver running through me as his lips traced the sensitive skin.

"Is that so?" His tone was lazy, amused. His fingers traced up my arm, his touch feather-light, igniting every nerve. "I think you're lying, ptichka. But don't worry..." His mouth moved closer to my ear, his voice a dark, delicious whisper. "I'll give you plenty of time to admit it."