My mouth gapes at his overconfidence. There's something sexy and intriguing about it, but there's also a hint of annoyance that trickles through me. Those dark eyes bore into me. They dive deep into my being as if he's attempting to burrow through all the walls I've hidden behind.

Something tells me this man will rip me to shreds. Self-confidence has never been my strong suit. Hence the weird clothes and baggy sweaters. I hide behind the bright colors because I don't want people looking at me. But that's when they stare. Their eyes glued to the weird girl.

"This isn't a fairytale, Stalker Darden," I mutter, turning away from him. I lift the bottle, pouring another steep shot of the vile alcohol. His body cocoons me suddenly; heat on my back stifles me. I'm pinned between the counter and his broad, hard, yet lean body.

His hot breath fans over my neck, and his large hand grips my hair, tugging my head to the side. "Listen to me, Alice, I've devoured countless women. I've left them boneless," he murmurs. There's a promise in his words. He wants to do that to me. "Because I'm that fucking good." This time, his words are growled along my flesh, causing goosebumps to skitter wildly over every inch of my body. I can't stop trembling. He exudes a dominating presence. Commanding and extremely sexy.

Finally, he releases my hair, and I take the chance to spin on my heel. Meeting his eyes is something else. Something dark and feral glistens in them, stealing my breath and speeding up my heartbeat.

His gaze falls to my lips, trailing down to my nipples, which harden under his scrutiny. "Your tits are small," he utters.

"Perhaps your dick is small," I bite back in anger, but as soon as the words fall from my lips, I want to swallow them back. I shouldn't have said it. I know it's a lie, because how can a man like him be small?

That's when he turns rabid. He grips my throat, lifting me against the cabinet, pressing his groin against my stomach. I feel every rigid inch of him as he pushes against me, informing me wordlessly that he's loaded. There's a gun in there, and he will most certainly kill me with it.

"Is that small enough for you, Alice?" He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest against mine. He's close. Too fucking close.

His unique scent envelopes me. Coffee and whiskey, mingled with the sickly stench of the cheap vodka.

"You're an asshole," I choke out, his fingers tightening around my slim throat.

There's an animalistic grin on his handsome face as I claw at his neck. But the more I struggle, the harder he gets. I feel his cock throbbing against my abdomen. As if it has a pulse of its own.

"Listen to me, Alice—"

"Cerys. My name is Cerys," I breathe out when he releases me slightly. His grip still around my neck, but his hold isn't as tight.

"Cerys." He says my name slowly, as if tasting it on his tongue.

He leans in, ever so slightly. His full lips near mine. Involuntarily, my mouth opens for him, but he doesn't kiss me. My cheeks burn in shame for a moment before his tongue laps at the sensitive spot behind my ear. He pulls the lobe into his mouth, his teeth biting down on the flesh, causing me to whimper.

I shouldn't want this.

I shouldn't want him to hurt me.

But I do.

My thighs squeeze together. My hands land on his shoulders, gripping him, wanting to pull him closer.

"Why?" I whimper when he suckles the flesh.

He releases my neck, his hot mouth moving to the nape, planting kisses, suckling the skin, and biting so hard I know he's going to leave a bruise. He still hasn't answered me when his hands find the hem of my dress.

"Stop me," he growls a second before he lifts the material to my upper thighs. "If you don't want this, you best tell me right now."

I open my mouth.

I don't respond.

His fingers trail my inner thighs roughly. He kicks my one foot away, spreading my legs. I'm open to him. To his gaze and his ministrations. A soft mewl tumbles from my lips when he strokes my panties with two strong fingers. Again, and again. He continues to rub my pussy until I'm gripping his arms, digging my short nails into the material of his expensive suit, attempting to rip it from his body.

"Little Alice, falling down the rabbit hole," he murmurs in my ear before pulling away to regard me with a sinful smirk on his handsome face. "Let me take you to Wonderland." It's tempting, so fucking insanely tempting that I want to agree.

My head drops back when he pushes my panties to the side. Finding my drenched center, he continues to taunt me as he rubs against my needy flesh. It’s slow, meticulous, just how I expected him to be. This man doesn’t do things without thinking them through.

"You'll give in. You will submit because I won't stop until you do," he promises, causing me to snap my gaze to his. There's no lie in his eyes. I knew it.

We're at a standoff. He wants me to give in. I don't want to. But I don't want him to stop. I spread my legs farther, my hips rolling against his fingers.

"You're so filthy, Alice." He chuckles wolfishly. "Come for me. Use my fingers for your pleasure, little girl," he growls, his body rigid. He's barely holding onto his restraint. He teases my clit with his thumb while his other fingers slide against my opening, but never fully entering me. I cry out loudly, lost in the moment, as my body writhes in pleasure.

He doesn't stop.

"Please," I beg.

He rubs me harder, faster, pressing against my clit, causing my toes to curl. I see stars as my body convulses, the slick juices of my orgasm leaking from me and drenching his fingers.

"That's it, my dirty girl. Come for me. Come for your filthy stalker." His words wash over me as I leap from the edge into the darkness, and I cry out his name.

James. James. James.