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I can almost taste some erotic demands on his lips that never come. He yanks away the jacket and tosses it aside, turning me back around to face him, his eyes meeting mine. He searches my face again, and I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he says, “Obviously, I haven’t kissed you enough.”

His mouth crashes down on mine and I’m done fighting this. I don’t have it in me. I don’t want to even try. My hands slide under his shirt, hot, taut skin over hard muscle, and he responds by tearing his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. I have a few blinks to appreciate a sculpted torso, black and red-inked arms, and a tapered waist, before he’s kissing me again, tugging my skirt up my hips, and just that fast, his mouth is gone and he’s already on one knee in front of me. My skirt is gathered at my waist, and he catches the strings of my panties in his fingers and tugs the silk down my body. I untangle one foot and forget the other. His lips are on my belly—God, his lips are on my belly—and I’m trembling. I am so aroused, I’m weak in the knees.

His lips travel lower and anticipation thrums through me. I want him lower. I want him in the most intimate part of me, but just as I’m fading into that place of no return, a horrible thought jolts me. I lean forward and press my hands to his shoulders. “Wait. My God, is this one of Waters’ evil games? Are you going to get me two seconds from orgasm and kill me?”

His lashes lower, his head tilting down, hair teasing the naked skin of my belly before he’s on his feet, his hand under my hair on my neck, tilting my gaze to his. “This is not a game and I will never hurt you. No matter what. I need you to remember that.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I guess you’ll just have to live through your orgasm.”

Heat rushes to my cheek and I actually laugh. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“Trust is a two-way street, sweetheart. You need to remember that.”

“And what if we never trust each other?”

“Well then, I guess we can just fuck our way through the trial. And then fuck some more to celebrate that bastard never seeing sunlight again. Unless you’d rather not. It’s your decision, Pri.”Chapter FifteenADRIAN

Pri’s lips part at my bold words. “You think this is that simple?” she challenges. “We just fuck our way through the trial?”

“It’s not even close to that simple,” I say, not at all surprised at how much I mean that statement. Nothing about how I react to this woman is simple. Nothing about running from the King Devil is simple, which is why running isn’t what I have in mind. But right now, she’s all I have on my mind. She’s all I can seem to make matter. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it,” I say.

The very fact that Waters would agree to that statement, and that I know him that well, grinds through me, and yet I say exactly what he would yet again. “It’s all about living in the moment, not the fear.” Cursing myself, and all the parts of me that will never be the same after the Devils, I have to force myself to release her, to press my hands to the wall and not her body. “Or not. If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t touch you. And you have no idea how much effort it just took for me to stop touching you.”

She blinks her long, dark lashes and looks up at me with intelligent doe eyes, laden with heat and desire, and I am downright vibrating with the need to reach for her. “Ethically I have to tell the judge we’re involved.”

“Are you asking me if I care?”

“Yes.”

“You do what you need to do. You’re good enough to sell the judge on you and on why we came together.”

“Which is why?”

“People are dying and we’re surviving, sweetheart.” I pause. “Together, Pri.”

She studies me for several long beats and then she shocks me by tugging her blouse over her head and tossing it away. By the time it’s hit the ground, we’ve come together again, a collision of passion, bodies pressed close, my hand on her head while our lips press together, tongues dancing. My fingers work the front clasp of her bra and I tear my mouth from hers to drag the straps over her shoulders. I let it fall and my gaze rakes over the swell of her full breasts, the sleek pucker of her plump nipples.

I tweak one perfect peak with my finger and watch the pleasure slide over her face before I lean in to kiss her neck, whispering at her ear, “There is nothing wrong with fucking. Nothing at all.”

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