Primal Pursuit

“On the contrary. I think we should take this to another level.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t really give a fuck what you think. You gave that right up when you stepped in here.” I pull my switchblade from my pocket and flick it open in front of her face.

To her credit, she doesn’t move.

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

“I sure hope not.”

“Your knife in my face is suggesting non-consent.”

“Signed your consent over to the club.” I run the blade’s point down her cheek, light enough not to leave amark, pressure enough to scare. “Should have read the fine print.”

Rabbit wants to run. She wants to stay even more. All she does is raise her chin, turn her head, and look at me. “What do you want?”

“Take you for a test run. Time to perform, Rabbit.”

And then I bring the knife to her throat.

Chapter

Three

POPPY

Do your fucking worst,you piece of shit murderer.

Never before has a thought been so hard to keep locked inside, devoid of voice. Fear and fury coil through me like vines that strangle the breath from my lungs. But despite the fear, there’s something else, too. Desire?

No.

It’s fucking madness. A mafia assassin has a fucking knife to my throat—blade pressed in, just enough that one wrong move will draw blood, yet I feel arousal pool between my thighs.

The metal’s cool but not cold, like his body heat warmed the metal while it sat in his pocket. He’s not touching me, just the knife and yet there’s something about his stance, how he holds the blade like it’s an extension of himself.

He’d do it. If he wanted to. In this room in front of witnesses he’ll cut my throat without blinking. But that’s not what I fear most right at the moment. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now. I’m scared that there’ssomething wrong with me because his blade against my throat has me turned on in the most twisted way, and I hate it…but I don’t.

It’s this place. I’m sure of it. It has to be. This club has sex clinging to its walls, an undercurrent of something forbidden that’s tempting me with its illicit promises. It’s intoxicating, and it’s fucking with my head.

Sucking in a breath, I deliberately shift focus. I won’t be thwarted by his unwanted touch, even if it feels good. My goal of going after every single one involved in my parents’ assassination has kept me going through the dark times, given me motivation when things have gone wrong. Some might say purpose. I’ve come too far to screw it up now.

Davian slants his head to the side, those intense green eyes studying me with intent. “Not going to say something smart, Rabbit?”

I’ve got lots to say, but I also know this hunter needs the small victories every so often, and right now I’m all about giving him what he wants. It’s for the greater good. Formygreater good.

I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to the movement, drawn like a bird to a worm.

He slides the knife slowly over my skin, letting it drag as he circles me. I can feel the heat of his breath on the back of my neck, its warmth moving through wisps of my hair. A shiver slides down my spine when I feel the blade against my shoulder.

“You’re a little overdressed,” he murmurs behind me.

I jump as the blade slices through the fabric of my halter neck.

“Way too overdressed, Rabbit.”

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I have no idea what to do. I’m frozen, my body locked in place, just like a deer caught in the headlight glare of an oncoming car.