Chapter Fifty-Three
“W-WHAT?” I STAGGERED BACKWARD.
He went with me, lashing his arm around my waist again and jerking me close.
What was he talking about?
What’s going on?!
A mad smile twitched his mouth as he caught my eyes and dragged me into him.
I fought him.
I pummelled his chest with my fists, needing to understand. Needing him to talk to me.
“What are you doing?” I panted as his gaze locked on my lips. “What are you—”
“I’m ensuring they won’t kill you once it’s done.” His fingers locked around my nape, tugging my loose hair.
“Done?” My heart shot into my throat. “What’s done?”
His lips crashed over mine, shutting me up with a kiss.
Not gently.
Not kindly.
He kissed me as if the sky was about to fall, along with the fat raindrops splashing almost on cue. He squeezed the back of my neck and held me impossibly close, turning his head and bruising our lips as if sharing the most passionate of kisses.
But it wasn’t real.
I moaned at the fakery of it.
The overdone callous performance.
The hate pouring off him.
I went stiff in his embrace.
He wasn’t kissing me because he wanted to.
He kissed me for the drones—for the guards watching us on their screens. He kissed me because of an agenda I still didn’t understand. For a goal he was determined to reach.
I clawed at his waist, his voice echoing over and over in my head. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s me.”
If he planned to die today, then how would he complete his revenge?
How would he get out?
How did he plan on enraging his keepers by doing the one thing they wanted him to do?
They wanted him to be sexually active. They wanted the repercussions of pregnancy—
His hand landed on the neckline of my dress. The delicate fabric gave in to his fierce tug, sliding down my shoulder and baring the top of my breast.
“Wait—” I panted against his hard mouth.
In answer, his fingers tightened in my hair. His lips softened just a little. His eyes flashed open, checking to see we were still being watched, before a low growl rumbled in his chest and he gathered me painfully close.
I gasped as he crushed me.
I moaned as he hurt me.
His tongue speared past my parted lips, plunging deep into my mouth.
And the world ruptured.
He might’ve kissed me for show but...his tongue.
His taste.
His heat and power and violence.
I snapped.
Digging my nails into his waist, I stroked his tongue with mine.
His reaction was instantaneous.
The pantomime shattered, exploding into reality as he snatched me up and kissed me.
Properly.
Passionately.
With all the pain and pleasure we suffered.
His hand gripped my nape as his mouth opened wide and devoured me.
He went from a man vowing never to touch me, to a beast intent on eating me alive.
His need and breath and fury tangled into one impossible collision. The world spun; the maple leaves blurred to blood-red streaks. My pulse drummed against his, two wild hearts in sync for one treacherous moment.
The impact of his kiss stole the air from my lungs and left my pulse thrashing in my veins. I moaned as he angled his mouth, kissing me deeper, harder, trying to pour pain directly into me.
The orgasm he’d given me wasn’t enough.
That had just been a tease—a temptation to the real violence of how much I needed him.
My very existence shrank to the slick, hot slide of his tongue, the press of his body, and his small, involuntary groan.
He set fire to my out-of-control heart.
He kissed me messily, madly—as if this was yet another first for him just like it was a first for me.
And that knowledge—the history of why I was the only girl he’d ever kissed or touched or trusted threatened to break down all my walls.
My fingers found his shirt collar, fisting it and holding on for dear life, all while pulling him into me and begging for more.
I licked him.
His breath caught, a shudder quaking down his spine.
He kissed me harder.
We lost ourselves as the heavens opened.
Rain crashed over us.
There was no rhythm, no mercy—just heat and tongue and the brutal scrape of teeth.
The drones didn’t matter. The storm didn’t distract us. There was only this madness. This crazy, chaotic consummation.
Something inside me cracked open, flooding me in molten waves.
My fingers clawed at his shirt, his neck, needing, needing, needing.
He growled into my mouth, low and helpless.
My stomach tangled. My core clenched.
And—
Then he was gone.
Staggering backward, he panted hard. His hand slapped over the disc on his heart, bending forward as if it had dosed him with a brutal punch of pain. For a heartbeat, he just stared at me—his lips glistening, chest heaving, pupils blown wide like he was seconds away from throwing me on the ground and fucking me.
Time hung suspended between us.
Gritting his teeth, he stood to his full height, battling agony and weakness, before reaching into his pocket. His eyes shuttered with unreadable curtains, snuffing out the fury, the lust, the yearning.
Tripping into me, he grabbed my hand and smacked the dagger into it before wrapping my fingers tightly around the hilt.
I looked down, dazed and horrified.
The weight of the knife was familiar and dreadfully sharp.
Comprehension slammed back into me.
I went to drop it but he whisper-snarled, “Let go of it and I’ll snap your neck right here.”
My gaze shot to his. “What...what do you expect me to do?”
His gleaming wet lips twisted into a sneer.
He broke the very same heart he’d just kissed half to death as he ordered, “Kill me, of course.”
To be continued in BURNING BLOOD...coming out in a few weeks!
Thank you so much for reading Lucien and Rook’s tale. I’m so grateful for the time you took to read this story, considering there are so many other amazing books out there. I truly hope you enjoyed it and that you’re looking forward to the rest of their romance...
They’re about to catch fire.
In a big way.
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