Trapped by Claws

Scoffing, he set his hands on his narrow waist. He took a step closer. "And why should any of you be shown mercy? You deserve nothing."

"That's rather the point of mercy." I bumped into the wall.

"If we deserved it, it wouldn't be mercy." His lips trembled in the barest hint of a true smile. He stopped in front of me and pressed his hand against the wall near my head, caging me in as he leaned closer. He was so close, I could smell him. Salty ambergris, white patchouli, and spiced rum overwhelmed my senses. I blinked, struggling to steady myself as his bright-green eyes homed in on mine. My pulse raged.

"Of course," he murmured, his voice low and silky. "My offer still stands." I pressed myself back against the wall, palms against the wood.

"What offer?"

"To come to my home. My lair, as you called it." His gaze raked over me, leaving me breathless. That smile curled at his lips as his eyes grew sharper, hungrier. The claws on the hand pressed against the wall tapped against the wood.

"You threatened everyone on this ship, and you think I would agree to run off with you?" I forced the words out.

His smirk wavered. Then he leaned closer, his breath wisping over my cheek. "Except you're thinking about it." His eyebrow lifted.

"No!" I snapped. Or at least I tried. The word came out so much weaker and softer. There was something about him. Something in the way he looked at me that stole my breath and my strength. "I'm not tempted at all." My voice cracked.

He smirked.

"The answer is still no."

He slid his left hand against my throat, pushing me harder against the wall. Heat spasmed through me. His body did not press against mine though his other arm kept me caged. The tips of his claws pressed against my skin, making my flesh prickle and tingle. He caressed the column of my throat with the blade of his thumb. "Is it really?"