Fighting With the Infuriating Prince Read Online Free

the cheese and crackers were gone, the bottle of wine emptied and the ice cream half gone.  Jalayla would like to say that he’d eaten most of the food and yes, he’d made a significant dent in that feast, but she’d certainly helped.  She wasn’t even hungry but there was a strange, clawing need inside of her that couldn’t be assuaged.  The longer they argued, the more she ate. 
    She put the lid firmly on top of the ice cream, trying to get herself to stop eating.  “Just because men are stronger, that doesn’t mean that they’re better.”
    He stood up abruptly and leaned over her.  “Do you really believe that a stronger person doesn’t have an advantage in this world?” he asked.  At the same time, his hand slipped onto her ankle, exposed by her now-relaxed pose. 
    Jalayla’s breath caught and her eyes widened.  She opened her mouth to say something, but his fingers moved again and whatever she’d been about to say simply fluttered out of her mind.  Shaking her head, she tried to move her leg out of his grasp but his fingers closed over the delicate bones. 
    She re-focused on their argument, unwilling to let him think he’d won.  “Strength definitely has an advantage in the short term, but long term, it is going to take…”
    She didn’t have a chance to finish that sentence.  His eyes moved away from her face, down to her legs.  Her mind stopped thinking completely as his long fingers stroked her calf, moved down to her toes and her feet.  Those strong fingers pressed into the strained muscles of her feet and she closed her eyes as erotic sensations shot through her whole body. 
    She wasn’t aware of how her head fell backwards.  But Tasir was.  The entire time they’d been arguing with each other, he had been painfully aware of her nipples pressing against the silk of her robe.  When he pressed his fingers into the arch of her foot, something shot right through her body. Jalayla’s breath left her body in a whoosh, her hands fisting against the countertop. She opened her mouth to beg him to stop, but then his strong fingers moved again against her foot.
    She was completely unaware of the way her back arched whenever he pressed his fingers against her foot. But Tasir was completely aware of all of the signs that she was unconsciously broadcasting. His eyes missed nothing as her body trembled against his hands, his fingers absorbing each of her shivers as he worked the muscles in her feet. Not many people knew all of the erogenous zones that were centered in the foot, but he’d learned through experience, trial and error. His triumph was in watching the expressions on her face as her body came alive from his touch.
    “What are you doing to me?” she whispered with more than a touch of desperation.
    Tasir stood up, his hands sliding up her legs and bringing the silk of her nightgown right along with them. “You have been tormenting me ever since the moment we met this afternoon. I’m just giving back a little bit of what you’ve done to me.”
    “I haven’t done anything to you,” she said as she shivered. His hands slid higher, pausing against her knee. When his fingers tickled the back of her legs her eyes opened up and she stared into his eyes. “So is this proving that you’re stronger?”
    His eyes moved down to her legs, noticing how soft and smooth her skin was.  “Oh no, this is retribution. Pure and simple retribution.”
    Her hands had been holding her up as she leaned back against the countertop. But when his hands started to move further up her legs, she gave up that position and grabbed his wrists, so startled by the feelings zinging through her with his hands moving onto skin that no man had ever touched before. She couldn’t handle this. Her head shook back and forth, denying him any further movement.
    “We can’t do this,” she told him, her eyes wide with both amazement and need, but also laced with fear and confusion.
    His dark eyes moved from her