Page 112 of The Masked King

“Almost? Would it help if I wore a mask?”

Demi chuckles, and it fills my heart with joy. “Masks aren’t really my thing.”

“No?” I trace a line down from her collarbone to the dip between her breasts with my fingertip, gliding it over the swell towards her hard nipple. “What is your thing?”

She hesitates, the beep of the monitor picking up its pace. “Do you really need to ask?”

“No, but I want to hear it.”

Her lips curve into a small smile. “You are.”

I lean over her and suck her nipple to a stiff peak, flicking it with the tip of my tongue. “When did you realize that I was Brian?” I don’t want to taint this moment, but I have to know so that I can draw a line under it and move on.

Demi threads the fingers of her sling-free hand through my hair. “I think subconsciously I knew from the moment you described me in the darkness.”

“It was how I pictured you because, in my head, you were every fantasy I could possibly imagine wrapped up inside one perfect package.”

I suck her other nipple, teasing it between my lips, desperate to taste every part of her.

“Do you ever wonder what might’ve happened if you’d chosen a different door that night?” Her body is responding to my touch, but her question is serious.

She needs to draw a line under it too.

“No. I’d have found my way to you eventually, with or without the Russians’ help.”

“Did you…” She inhales deeply. “Did you try to find me?”

I smile, and go back to her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue. “Do you really need to ask?” I mimic her words.

“No, but I want to hear it.”

“I tore the fucking city apart, searching for you, until I realized that you didn’t want to be found.”

She closes her eyes briefly. When she opens them again, a single tear spills over her bottom lashes. “I thought it was the only way, and before you say it, I know I was too stubborn to hear you out. I’m sorry, Enzo.”

“Hey…” I kiss her, cupping her face gently with my hand. “Someone wise once told me that we’re always where we’re meant to be at any given moment.”

“Someone wise?”

“Probably Meggie.” I suck my top lip to stop myself from chuckling. “Tell me what you thought about when you made yourself come for Brian.”

She lifts her head from the pillow, her lips following mine. “I thought about your tongue on my clit.”

“Was I that good?” I arch my eyebrows at her and her smile grows wide.

“You must’ve been although…”

“Although…?” I push her legs apart with my knee, and cup her mound with my hand.

“My memories are a little fuzzy right now.”

I slide a finger inside her. “Do you need me to remind you?”

“Maybe.”

I curl my finger around the spot inside her that always had her gasping, and my pulse spikes when her lips part, and her breathing grows shallow. “Like that?” My voice is thick with desire.

She licks her lips. “I don’t know. You might need to add another finger.”