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"Sometimes I wish I was a man," she said bitterly. "Then I can be as strong as you, or stronger. I would strangle you with my own hands."
He moved swiftly. His right hand covered her neck as he pushed her against the wall near the foot of his cot.
"You were foolish in coming today. And very foolish in telling the guard to give you space."
He leaned into her, pressing his lower body on her. He increased the pressure on her throat. She shuddered and he felt the unmistakable stirring of sexual excitement in his loins.
"Little rabbit," he said, his eyes boring into her. "Why would you come into the den of the fox all by yourself? Hmm?" He pressed himself on her, grinding slowly so she could feel his arousal on her belly.
Her mouth parted in a sharp gasp before she squeezed her eyes shut, her entire frame trembling against him. He bent his head, catching the scent of wild cinnamon on her skin. Zavier inhaled it deeply, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his chest. "Interesting," he muttered.
He brushed his thumb over her parted lips. Her eyes flew open. He looked into them, reading the raw weakness in her gaze. "Unless you want something from me."
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