Sineka's breath shuddered against the silence. The heat of his touch lingered beneath her skin, branding her with every deliberate stroke—and she hated it. Hated the way her body betrayed her, hated the way he unraveled her defenses with nothing more than his hands and a whispered challenge.
And Crocodile—damn him—knew exactly what he was doing.
His smirk curved against her shoulder as he dragged his fingers lower, slow and relentless, teasing the line of her hips with just enough pressure to leave her breathless. Her pulse pounded beneath her skin, sharp and insistent, as if her body had already surrendered before her mind could catch up.
But she wasn't done yet.
Sineka inhaled slowly, steadying herself. Her golden eyes snapped open, sharp with defiance, and she twisted beneath his hands, turning to face him in a single fluid motion that sent water rippling against the porcelain.
Crocodile stilled, his gaze meeting hers with that same infuriating calm—watching, waiting, as if daring her to resist him.
But this time—this time, she wouldn't lose.
Her hand shot out, gripping the front of his shirt and yanking him forward until their faces were only inches apart. Water dripped from her bare skin, soaking the fabric beneath her fingers, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the fire in her chest—the fire he'd stoked too far, too fast, until she had no choice but to burn him with it.
"My turn," she whispered, her breath ghosting against his lips.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed, his smirk twitching at the edges as if she'd amused him. But there was heat behind that gaze now—undeniable, unhidden—and she saw the faint shift in his breath, the subtle tension that coiled beneath his composed exterior.
Good.
Sineka's fingers trailed down the front of his shirt, slow and deliberate, teasing open the first button without breaking eye contact. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her touch, solid and unyielding—but not unaffected.
"Still think you're the one in control?" she murmured.
Crocodile chuckled low in his throat, the sound rough and dark against the steam-thick air. "Careful, woman," he warned. "You're playing with fire."
"Then let me burn," she shot back, pulling him closer until their bodies almost touched, heat and water and tension tangling between them.
For a moment—just a moment—the world narrowed to the space between their lips, to the sharp hitch of breath and the unspoken challenge hanging between them. Her fingers paused at the next button, teasing the fabric apart with agonizing slowness—
Her hand slipped lower, nails grazing faint lines of muscle beneath damp fabric, skimming the waistband of his pants with just enough pressure to leave him wanting. She could feel the sharp inhale beneath her fingers, the faint twitch of control slipping beneath the surface—and she smiled.
"Still think you can play with me, Desert King?"
Crocodile's smirk didn't waver, but something darker flickered in his gaze—something that made the air between them feel heavier, hotter, charged with an edge of danger that stole the breath from her lungs.
"You think you can win this game, woman?" he asked, voice low and rough against her skin.
Sineka leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear with deliberate slowness, her breath warm and taunting against the pulse that beat just beneath the surface.
"I don't think," she whispered.
"I know."
And damn—
YOU ARE READING
A Bride for the Desert King | Crocodile
Fanfiction"Marry me," she commanded, almost. Crocodile narrowed his eyes at the impertinence of the woman who stood in front of him. "Ara," he heard Ms All Sunday mutter amusedly. "Who are you?" "Sineka Duskblade," she replied.
