And then, I asked the question—half jest, half poison:
“But am I going to suffer the same fate someday? Will you murder me too?”
I tried to laugh, to make it sound like a joke.
But he didn’t laugh.
His voice was ice. “Never.”
He leaned in, his face a mask of control, barely.
“You willalwaysbe safe with me. You willalwaysbe loved.”
I swallowed hard. My heart pounded against my ribs like a warning drum.
The air around us thickened, wrapping me in heat and shadow.Desire surged through my veins, a pulsing ache beneath my skin. But beneath that… something darker.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself.
Balthazar released my wrists with deliberate grace, his eyes still locked on mine—unchanging, unreadable, devouring.
Without a word, he reached for the buttons of his dark silk doublet, undoing each one purposefully, as though undressing himself was an act of seduction in itself. The rich fabric slid from his shoulders and crumpled to the floor with a whisper. He peeled off his hose, followed by the gleaming silver codpiece, the metal catching the flicker of candlelight before joining the rest of his garments in a careless heap.
Then he crawled toward me, predator-smooth.
His bare chest gleamed—broad, powerful, marbled with shadow and light—and though his monstrous form should have terrified me, it didn’t. It called to me. Commanded me. Cradled me in something primal and dark, yet somehow soothing.
His warm, calloused hand traced along my cheek, sending a jolt of pleasure rippling through me. Sparks danced across my skin as his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling gently and pressing against my neck.
I shivered.
His lips hovered just above mine—close enough to feel the heat of his breath, the promise of what was coming. My eyes fluttered shut a moment before his mouth claimed mine.
The kiss was hot. A mix of hunger and possession.
His lips were full, demanding, velvet-soft, and edged with danger. My body arched into him, melting beneath his touch. I slid my hands to his chest, fingers splaying over the hard muscle, feeling him groan low in his throat as I pressed against him.
He deepened the kiss, his hand fisting in my hair, tilting my head to taste me more thoroughly—tongue sweeping into my mouth with decadent purpose. I gasped, then moaned, letting him claim every inch of me with just a kiss.
And then he pulled back.
A wicked smile curved his lips, his eyes dark and glittering as they roamed over my body, making me burn where they lingered.
“Let’s remove these garments,” he murmured, voice husky, edged in command.
He helped me sit up, his fingers already working the fastenings of my bodice. He peeled the fabric from my form piece by torturous piece—my skirt, my corset, my chemise, my stockings—until I was stripped bare but for my jewelry.
His gaze feasted on me, lips parted slightly, reverent and ravenous.
“Now,” he said, his voice a delicious growl, “we begin toplay.”
My legs trembled with anticipation, the air thick with the scent of sex and smoke. Balthazar’s hands slid along my hips and stomach, his touch searing fire into my skin. I gasped as his fingers brushed lower, igniting sparks that lit up every nerve in my body.
He eased me back onto the bed, hovering above me. His body radiated heat, his eyes locked on mine, and with every movement, he worshipped me like I was both altar and offering.
Then he descended.
His mouth trailed kisses down my torso—featherlight touches that made me ache for more. He nuzzled the inside of my thigh, lips brushing my sensitive skin, his stubble grazing just enough to make me moan. I writhed beneath him, my breath shallow, hands clutching the sheets as his tongue traced blazing lines along the curve of my thighs.
