A Prey With Thorns

Isadora had her back to his chest, and her butt perched on his lap. In that moment of realization, she didn't dare to move. Solely because of the uncomfortable bulge poking her cheeks.

"Is this the best your anger can do, love?" he said with a soft sneer.

Suddenly aggravated again she yanked away from his hold, ignorant to the idea he had actually let her go.

"You're taunting me!" she snapped.

"Is it working?" he mused, glaring at her flushed cheeks and the rage burning in her eyes. "I think it is," he added, his tongue flicking over his lips.

She growled, on the verge of going after him again but she somehow found the willpower to hold her stance.

Instead, she focused her anger on the dagger at her side, gripping the handle so tightly that it felt as though it might cause blisters.

Kraven had never seen anything more beautiful than the way she looked at him in that moment.