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YZMA

CHAPTER 30: YZMA

As I grasped the gun firmly, I felt Dashiell's hands slip under mine, his hard abs pressing against my elbow. His wrists slowly moved to cradle mine as he guided my hands to stay firm before my eyes.

I felt his fingers wrap around my wrists, his thumbs brushing against my pulse as he leaned to whisper in my ear. "Be still," he scolded, his voice low and sexy.

"Aim," he rasped, his lips moving away from my ear to fan hot minty breath on my neck. I shifted at the slightest hint of pleasure that he was giving me, and I think he noticed, but he didn't move away.

"Go!" He commanded, and I pulled the trigger.

I almost leaped for joy when the bullet hit the bullseye, leading Dashiell to fold his arms and scan my excited expression. "Not bad for your third try," he commended.

"Thanks, Master," I joked, nudging him with a wide smile.

He slapped my hands away, his brows furrowed, "I told you not to call me that."

"It's so cool! I'd literally die if anyone called me maste
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