br**** Posted September 8 I leaned back, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like I had the upper hand. “Maybe you’re not as clever as you think. Maybe I’m too quick for you.” He didn’t blink. Just let the silence stretch until it made my skin crawl. Then, in that low, maddening voice: “If you were too quick, you wouldn’t still be sitting here trying so hard to convince me.” My breath caught, just for a second. I tried to cover it with a smirk. “Maybe I’m just bored. Maybe I’m playing with you.” That earned me the faintest tilt of his head, that look that saw through me like glass. “If you were playing me, you wouldn’t be blushing right now.” I stiffened, heat rushing into my cheeks before I could stop it. My lips parted, ready to argue, but no words came out fast enough. He noticed. Of course he noticed. His smirk deepened. “See? That silence. That’s the truth spilling out of you faster than your tongue can spin.” I snapped my gaze away, teeth digging into my lip. “You’re just twisting things. That doesn’t prove anything.” He leaned closer, his tone slow and sharp enough to cut. “Then tell me, little mouse… why are you staring at the floor instead of at me? Afraid of what I’ll see in those pretty green eyes when you break?” My pulse hammered in my ears. I ***d myself to meet his gaze, only for the weight of it to strip every smart retort from my head. My mouth opened, then shut again. I hated how my body betrayed me — how it thrilled me. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. “That’s it. That’s the part of you I hunt for. Not the teeth. Not the claws. This—” his eyes pinned me like I was already caught, “—the moment you realize I’ve already won without laying a hand on you.” I swallowed hard, my chest tight, heat flooding through me in ways I didn’t want to admit. Words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He sat back, satisfied, as if he’d reeled me in with nothing more than patience. “Go ahead. Tell yourself you’re still in control.” A pause. “We both know better.” My throat went dry. I wanted to snap back, to claw, to deny—but nothing came. He left me in the silence of my own undoing, eyes steady on mine, waiting for me to admit what I couldn’t say. “Careful,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed my ear. “You’re giving me everything without me even asking.” The heat in my stomach twisted tighter. I bit down on my lip to keep from gasping. And then—he leaned back. Just like that, retreating into his chair, arms resting lazily as if the whole exchange had cost him nothing. His smirk was slow, lethal. “I’ll let you sit with that,” he said softly, deliberately. “Think about how easily I just unraveled you. Think about how fast you fold when I decide to play.”
ju**** Posted September 14 The mouse doesn't *** being preyed upon by the cat; it's afraid of its own desire to be preyed upon
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