Bound by Lust

Esme barely slept that night.

No matter how much she tossed and turned, her mind refused to quiet. Kael's words replayed in her head, his voice, his touch, the way he had looked at her like he knew something she didn't. It infuriated her.

She should have been used to his arrogance by now.

So why did it still get under her skin?

By the time morning arrived, she was no closer to an answer.

Still, she refused to let Kael see how much he affected her. If he wanted to play his cold, calculated games, fine. Two could play at that.

She would be indifferent.

She would pretend last night hadn't shaken her.

Esme stepped into the dining room later than usual, deliberately taking her time getting dressed, knowing Kael was already there. When she entered, she spotted him sitting at the head of the long, polished table, his focus on the documents spread before him.

He didn't even glance at her as she took her seat.

Perfect.

If he wanted to act like she was invisible, then she would do the same.

The butler served her breakfast, and Esme ate in silence, pretending Kael didn't exist.

For a while, it seemed he truly didn't care.

But then she noticed it—the way his fingers tapped against the table, the barely-there flicker of irritation when she didn't acknowledge his presence.

Oh.

So he did notice.

Good.

Esme hid her smirk as she took an extra bite of her croissant, acting completely at ease.

Minutes passed, the silence stretching between them, thick and unspoken.

Finally, Kael exhaled sharply, setting his pen down.

"Are we really doing this?" he muttered, his voice low.

Esme feigned innocence. "Doing what?"

Kael lifted his gaze, dark eyes locking onto hers. "This childish act of yours."

Esme shrugged, taking a slow sip of her tea. "I don't know what you mean, Kael. I'm just enjoying my breakfast."

His jaw clenched.

She was getting to him.

It was subtle—anyone else wouldn't have noticed—but Esme had spent enough time around Kael to recognize the small signs of his growing irritation.

Still, he leaned back in his chair, forcing a bored expression. "Fine," he said simply, picking up his documents again. "Do whatever you want."

Esme expected him to snap.

She expected him to demand that she drop the act.

But instead, he went back to his work as if she truly didn't matter.

And somehow, that frustrated her more.

She wanted him to react.

She wanted to know that she could get under his skin the same way he got under hers.

Esme set her fork down, a new plan forming in her mind. If ignoring him wasn't enough, she would push him further.

Rising from her seat, she walked around the table, stopping beside him.

Kael didn't look up.

She placed a hand on the back of his chair, leaning in slightly. "You know," she mused, her voice light, teasing, "if you're going to pretend I don't exist, at least put in some effort. You're making it too obvious that I'm bothering you."

Kael finally looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You're not bothering me," he said coolly.

Liar.

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled slightly against the papers in his hands.

Esme smirked. "Oh? So if I were to—" She trailed her fingers lightly along his shoulder, slow, deliberate. "—do this, you wouldn't care?"

Kael's gaze darkened, but he didn't move.

Didn't stop her.

Didn't push her away.

Esme's smirk faltered.

Why wasn't he stopping her?

Before she could pull back, Kael reached up, his fingers circling her wrist. His grip was firm, warm, sending an unexpected shiver up her spine.

"You think this is a game, Esme?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Esme swallowed, but she refused to back down. "Isn't it?"

Kael studied her, his gaze unwavering. "Careful," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to send a silent warning. "You might not like where this game leads."

A slow, unsettling realization crept over her.

She had spent so much time trying to control this situation, trying to get a reaction out of him.

But she had forgotten—Kael White never played by anyone's rules but his own.

And suddenly, she wasn't sure who was really in control anymore.

****. ****. ****.