A sad smile tilts her lips as she begins reading.
The clock ticks, grains of time sliding through the hourglass.
Lately, it’s getting harder and harder to keep to twenty-eight minutes.
Outside these walls, the Berishas are stirring, the cousins still fuming over our meeting at the club. The Benefaction looms. I should be preparing.
Instead, I sit in the dark watching her, the voracious hunger clawing deeper.
The monster wants more.
My phone buzzes.
Geraldine’s Chocolates
Good intel on the audio, but we need more. Keep me posted.
I bite my lip as I stare at Special Agent Tristan Clarke’s text message. After the incident at the club, I sent him my recording.
A pinch of guilt niggles behind my rib cage.
This is the right thing to do. Partner with the Feds. But why does it feel so…wrong? I can’t possibly be having feelings for the devil. No way.
I set down my phone and eye the black dome in the corner of the ceiling.
The red light blinks at me.
Damn bastard. Voyeur.
This is how he gets his secrets, by spying on everyone.
But anger doesn’t burn hot at the thought. Instead, a perverse pleasure sifts through me—the idea that the Shadow King finds me interesting.
How he almost lost his precious control at the club.
Heat unfurls in my lower belly, curling down low. Since he made me come, I want it again. But I can’t seem to get there myself.
Late at night, when the house stills and my thoughts go dark, images of him barrel into my mind—his ragged breathing, the power in his body, his hard cock grazing against me just the right way.
I’d squirm, my hand snaking under the covers to play with my slickness, swirling it around my clit. The pressure would build, but ecstasy was always out of reach.
It’s like I’m addicted to him.
“Ugh,” I grumble, my face hot and mouth parched.
I snap the book shut and sit up.
A postcard slips out.
I frown at the deep-red rose design and flip it over. Strong letters, a masculine scrawl:
To my devious wife,
Instead of picking locks, why don’t you do something worthwhile with your time?
Fifth bookshelf down. Row three. You’ll know it when you see it. An early Christmas present.
E.
