Chapter 17

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Robin Schulz – Sugar

She's something mystical in colored lights

So far from typical, but take my advice

Before you play with fire, do think twice

And if you get burned, don't be surprised

 — — — — —

Syble (Magnolia)


I can hear the smirk in his voice, he's laughing at me.

I try jabbing him in the stomach with my elbow but he catches it and then quickly grabs onto my other elbow, effectively locking me in place in front of him. The warmth from his hands on my arms spreads throughout my body and a pleasurable shiver runs up my spine. My nipples harden uncomfortably under my shirt and I have to resist the urge to moan. I have never met anyone who has had this effect on me from a single touch.

Ro's lips skim across my skin as he growls lowly in my ear, his sweet breath fanning my neck. "Always so eager to play, little spitfire."

"Afraid you'll lose again?" I'm practically breathless. He has completely disarmed me with a single touch and it's unnerving. The warrior queen part of me wants to spar with him every chance I get, but there's another part of me that relishes being in his grip, in his control. It's a rather novel feeling.

"I think I've already won." I can hear the grin in his voice.

I grin inwardly. Arrogant son of a bitch. Well if he wants to play dirty then that's exactly what I'll do.

I stop resisting in his arms and instead press myself up against him, grinding my backside into his bulge. I can feel him hardening behind me and I smirk because I know the tables have turned in my favor.

"Ro..." I plead breathlessly, all part of my plan to disarm him. I can hear his sharp intake of breath as his grip on me loosens. He releases my elbows and slides his hands over my hips grinding me into him.

I turn slowly in his arms, catching a glimpse of Varian as I do. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his eyes are as black as night, and he's fixated on Ro and me. His gaze is lustful, wanton, and it momentarily throws me — this isn't a game to him.

Looking finally into Ro's eyes I see that they are equally darkened, blackness has overtaken his eyes like a plague. Ro's hands are still planted on my hips, awaiting my next move.

I delicately place my hands over his on my hips, lacing our fingers together. The sparks are there, everywhere we touch, increasing as more of our skin touches. It's easy to get lost in this game, but I shake my head clear of this lustful fog and remember my purpose.

He leans a fraction closer to me and I use the opportunity to push myself away from him. I bring my right leg up and kick him square in the chest.

I release my hold on him and watch as he stumbles backwards a few steps. His nostrils flare as he sinks down into a fight stance. My heartbeat picks up in pace, his smile mirrors my own. Game on.

I lunge at him, making the first move, but today he is able to block and dodge all my punches.

He deflects blow after blow. My skin prickles with heat, my anger and frustration steaming off of me. I lean back to avoid his swinging fist, a favorite move of his. Before I realize what's happening, my legs are kicked out from under me and I fall backwards hard onto the ground, hitting my head in the process. The wind is completely knocked out of me and it takes me a second to remember how to breathe. Ro kneels over me, straddling one of my legs, his hand loosely around my throat keeping me pinned to the ground.

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