Page 68 of Lilies from Hell

“What? Do you think I’m lying to you?” I ask, frowning until my eyebrows meet. “I’m not lying to you, I didn’t see them.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

It doesn’t take us long to reach a large building that looks quite luxurious, then we drive into the garage. He gets out of the car and in a few seconds he’s at my door. Before I can open it myself, he does it for me.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as he puts his arm under my thighs and then lifts me up in his arms and closes the door. “Put me down.”

“I don’t want you walking barefoot on the ground.” I bite my lower lip, suppressing a silly smile and the blush on my cheeks.

“You can put me down here,” I say once we’re inside the elevator.

He refuses. I end up rubbing my face against his chest, searching for him and his scent without realizing it. Upon entering his flat I part my lips in amazement, observing the furniture and decor of the place. Not to mention the large windows that offer a great view of the city. It’s really beautiful. I blink when he starts moving, climbing the stairs to what appears to be a bedroom.

“You have a very beautiful house,” I whisper softly. And the best part is that we were going to be alone together. All night long.

“It is, but you’re much more beautiful, lyubov’,” he replies, slowly laying my body down on the bed. Of course. I think to myself sarcastically.

There is gold-coloured furniture and precious stones encrusted in the bedside lamps. I didn’t even know you could do that. He disappears through a door, leaving me with my mouth open. I take the opportunity to take a look around the room. It seems he spends quite a lot of time here even though it’s not his main home, and unlike the downstairs, this part shows signs that someone has been here recently.

I press my lips together, feeling those pangs of jealousy again. Then I ignore him as he goes to the bathroom and turn my back on that door, pretending to be asleep. When he returns to the bedroom and approaches me, I have to make an effort not to open my eyes and control my breathing as he begins to slowly caress my face. Until he reaches my lips. He stops abruptly, then he brings his lips close to my head, keeping them there as he breathes me in.

I don’t know when I actually fall asleep, but I do know that it’s quite late when I wake up. Even though it’s dark, I can see through the windows that there’s no one else in the room. I bite the inside of my cheek, debating whether I should go out and look for him or just keep sleeping. I doubt I’ll be able to get back to sleep, so I quickly go down to the main room.

I frown when I don’t find anyone. I keep walking until I see a shadow coming from a terrace. Without hesitation, I go there, stepping through the doorway with almost silent steps and breathing in the fresh night air. For a few seconds, I stand there watching his silhouette. He is shirtless and wearing loose gray pants as he smokes a cigarette. He looks like an angel from hell. He seems so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice I’m behind him.

“Hello.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, turning his body toward me. I can only focus on his chest and his tattoos, lowering my gaze to his perfect navel. I swallow hard, thinking about how I’d like to run my fingers over it again. Or maybe somewhere else. “Lyubov’?” I blink, raising my eyes to his smirk.

“Yes, I… I just woke up and didn’t know where you were,” I murmur, looking away with some embarrassment. Suddenly, it’s very hot.

“Sorry. I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” He looks at me with pursed lips, putting out his half-smoked cigarette and tucking it behind his ear.

“I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“What do you want to talk about?” My question seems to take him by surprise. “I’m not sleepy either, and I can’t think of anything better to do right now.” Or maybe I do.

He stares at me for a long time with a strange gleam in his eyes. Then he sits down on a sofa I hadn’t noticed before. I sit down next to him, not too close. His attentive gaze already makes me nervous enough to sit closer to him. We sit there admiring the sky in pleasant silence. He’s one of those people you can spend hours and hours with in silence without needing to bring up a topic of conversation to make yourself look good.

“Ask me questions. You said you didn’t trust me, so I want you to ask me questions,” he clarifies in response to my silence. I could start by asking what his favorite positions are. I murmur to myself, forcing myself to focus on squeezing my thighs together and not on his crotch.

“What do your tattoos mean?” I ask, trying hard not to stare at his abdomen any longer than necessary. He parts his lips as if to say something, but closes them again.

“Many things.”

“This one here?” I point to the flower on his chest. It’s not very big. Next to it is a scorpion, both surrounded by letters I can’t read.

“What keeps me alive,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s my favorite.” He holds my waist and lets me sit on his lap, burying his nose in my messy hair.

“You must really like flowers…” I whisper, ignoring the fact that he has started sniffing my neck as if it were some kind of drug. When he lets out a low moan, he digs his nails into my hips. “It’s like the one on my pendant,” I add, glancing down at my chest. He lifts his head and nods slowly. “Did you give it to me?”

“Maybe,” he says with a barely visible smile.

“That’s not an answer,” I complain, pursing my lips.

“If I hadn’t given it to you, I would have had to hunt down the son of a bitch who dared to give it to you and rip his guts out.” His smile fades and his hoarse voice makes no effort to hide his threat. That makes my heart stop beating for a second.