"Sleep with me."
He stared at her. His hand was still around her throat. His breathing was fast, uneven.
"Sleep with me," she repeated, softer now, her eyes tracing his face. Those gray eyes, cold and ruthless and so, so beautiful. His lips, pressed tight, sensual even in anger. The line of his jaw, the hollow of his throat, the broad span of his shoulders. The body she had wanted for years. The man she had wanted for years.
She didn't know anymore if she hated him or loved him. Didn't know if she wanted to kill him or be consumed by him.
"One night," she breathed. "That's all I ever wanted. One night. You owe me that much."
His grip loosened. Just a fraction. Just enough for her to draw a thin, rattling breath.
