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Lucius smiled, a sad sort of smile, one of regret. “Tragedy changes us all, Moira. We get to choose how much. Some survive with a few bumps and bruises. Others wear their scars forever and build walls to block the world out.”
Kol definitely had scars. There was the visible one given to him by his brother. But the one left on his heart by his mother bore much deeper. When had I come to care so much about his pain? When had he burrowed so far under my skin that I was afraid he’d leave his own scar behind on my heart?
Chapter Seventeen
Dinner came and went without the return of Kol. I adjourned early to my own guest suite on the third floor down, knowing he’d join me soon enough.
I stood in the living room, staring out into the night, sipping a glass of red wine. After dinner and a long, hot soak in the bath, I’d been here in my knee-length silk nightgown, black and butter-soft. Waiting.
I’d washed my hair and let it air-dry in dark waves, falling down my back. I knew he loved my hair. I’d seen him stare whenever I wore it down. I’d taken time to shave and lotion my body with lavender scents. I’d made myself into a silken, sweet-smelling temptation—one he would no longer be able to resist. I didn’t just want kissing or heavy petting anymore. I wanted all of him.
I’d watched the sun set beyond the Gladium skyline and Morgons return home from work to nearby rooftops. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, the city lights burning bright. Cars zipped here and there far below. Everyone seemed a world away while I waited in the dark for a certain Morgon to fulfill his promise. A promise that made my pulse quicken.
Soon.
I felt his presence rather than heard him when he finally entered. Slowly, I turned. A familiar silhouette moved in the shadows, silver eyes glinting. He circled the dining room table, angling closer to me. My gaze moved with him. Self-defense rule number one: never let the attacker have your back. And yes. He was going to attack. No doubt.
He moved past a wall sconce, the flame revealing his magnificent nude body. I swallowed hard. Kol didn’t play games. He’d made me a promise, and he was wasting no time fulfilling it.
The air crackled, an electrical charge sizzling in the air. I’d sensed this before. The night Lorian lost it at dinner. A symptom of the dragon rising to the surface.
“You know my alarm code.” I was shocked at the steady tenor of my voice. Not at all how I felt as the predator prowled ever closer.
“Of course.” As expected, his voice rumbled like thunder, more beast than man.
I knew what I looked like to him—standing tall with the night sky at my back, barefoot, wine glass in hand, wearing nothing but a sheer piece of fabric clinging to every curve.
A click of the remote and the glass wall tinted black. No one could see in. I swallowed hard. Desire and a little trepidation flared at his intent.
Of course I wanted him. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, deny that anymore. Not even to myself. My blood rushed at the mere thought of his hands on my body. Still, I was never one to give in so easily. I never thought of myself as one of those women who played hard-to-get, but some inner demon wanted to provoke him. My defenses had mellowed with the wine, loosening my tongue. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea, Kol. This could muddle things in our investigation. I’m not so sure I want?—”
His attack was fierce and fast. Knocking my wine glass clear away, I was pinned hard before it crashed to the floor. Cool glass at my back, his hand fisted in my hair, arching my neck just enough to meet his gaze. His other hand gripped my hip in a vise, his chest pressed to mine. A sconce above us flickered a pale flame, revealing his intensely serious expression.
“You severed ties with your father because he sought to lord over you. You left that Lennox boy because he wasn’t man enough to handle you.”
How did he know? I stared, mouth agape, unable to speak.
“I’ll tell you what you want, Moira.” His hand released my hip. Long fingers wrapped my nape, his thumb resting below my jaw, the other still clenched in my hair. “You want to be possessed, but not controlled. You want to be protected, but not smothered. You want to be dominated, but only in one way.”
He stroked his thumb down my chin, forcing my mouth open. I couldn’t form a thought, mesmerized by silver-fire and sensuous lips drawing closer. I slid my hands up his chest. I let one hand drift down to his waist, his hip, sliding over bare skin.
I gulped, my mouth bone-dry.
A fully nude Kol had me pressed against the glass. Though I was quite sure I already knew the answer, I could only think to ask him one thing.
“What—” Quick, unsteady breaths. “What do you want?”
His mouth curved into a wicked half-smile as he whispered against my lips. “I’m burning for you, Moira. An inferno flares inside every time you come near me.” He traced his tongue over my bottom lip. “I won’t go up in flames alone.” He ground out the words. “You’re going to burn with me. That’s what I want.”
Then he took my mouth, showing me what it meant to be set on fire.
Aggressive didn’t describe the way he worked me with his mouth and tongue, his fist tightening in my hair. A soft moan lingered at the back of my throat. He moved to my jaw, my neck, descending, teeth grazing a trail. A strong hand skimmed over the layer of silk—rounding my hip, dipping at my waist, sliding up my ribcage, mounding my heaving breast. His thumb circled the peak as he continued to suck and nip my neck. Heat flared down low.
“This skin. Like porcelain. I want to mark every inch as mine.”
“Why,” I managed to breathe out. “Because I belong to you?”
“Yes.”
