Veil of Midnight

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Authors: Lara Adrián
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy
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the last thing she needed to know right now. She struggled hard underneath the heavy muscular slab of his body weight, but he held her down with damn little effort. Bastard. “Get off me.”

    “Ask me again, Renata. What did I see?”

    “I said, get off me,” she snarled, feeling panic rise within her chest. She took a calming breath, knowing she had to keep her head. She had to get the situation under control, and fast. The last thing she needed was Sergei Yakut coming out and finding her pinned and powerless beneath this other male. “Let me up now.”

    “What are you afraid of?”

    “Nothing, goddamn you!”

    She made the mistake of lifting her gaze to his. Amber heat sparked inside the blue of his eyes, flame devouring ice. His pupils were narrowing swiftly, and behind the peeled-back grimace of his lips, she saw the sharp points of his emerging fangs.

    If he was angry now, that was only part of the cause of his physical transformation; where his pelvis bore down on hers she felt the hard ridge of his groin, the very obvious length of his cock pressing deliberately between her legs.

    She shifted, trying to escape that hot, erotic grind of their bodies, but it only wedged him tighter against her. Renata’s racing pulse jumped into a more urgent tempo, and an unwanted warmth began to bloom in her core.

    Oh, God. Not good. This was so not good.

    “Please,” she moaned, hating herself for the weak quaver of the word. Hating him too.

    She wanted to close her eyes, refuse to see his searing, hungry gaze or his mouth so near her own. She wanted to refuse to feel everything illicit that he was stirring in her—the danger of this unexpected, deadly desire. But her eyes stayed rooted on his, unable to look away, her body’s response to him stronger than even her iron will.

    49

    “Ask me what the child showed me tonight in her eyes,” he demanded, his voice as low as a purr. His lips were so close to hers, the soft skin brushed against her mouth as he spoke. “Ask it, Renata. Or maybe you’d rather see for yourself.”

    The kiss went through her blood like fire.

    Lips pressing together hotly, warm breath rushing, mingling. His tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, thrusting inside on her wordless gasp of pleasure. She felt his fingers caressing her cheek, sliding into the hair at her temple, then around to her sensitive nape.

    He lifted her to him, deeper into the kiss that was melting her, breaking down all her resistance.

    No.

    Oh, God. No, no, no.

    Can’t do this. Cannot feel this.

    Renata tore herself away from the erotic torture of his mouth, turning her head aside. She was shaking, emotions spiked to a dangerous level. She risked so much here, with him now. Too much.

    Mother Mary, but she had to extinguish this flame he’d lit within her. It was molten, deadly so. She had to snuff it out fast.

    Warm fingers touched her chin, guided her gaze back to the source of her distress. “Are you all right?”

    She extracted her hands from his loose, one-fisted grasp above her head and shoved at him, incapable of speech.

    He moved off at once. He took her hand and helped her up to her feet, assistance she didn’t want but was too stricken to refuse. She stood there, unable to look at him, trying to collect herself.

    Praying like hell she hadn’t just signed her own death warrant.

    “Renata?”

    50
    When she finally found her voice, it leaked out of her, quiet and cold with desperation. “Come near me again,” she said, “and I swear I will kill you.”

    51

CHAPTER
    Seven

    Alexei had been kept waiting more than ten minutes outside his father’s private chambers, his request for an audience given no more consideration than any one of Yakut’s other servant guards. The lack of respect—the flagrant disregard—no longer stung Lex as it had at one time. He’d moved past that useless bitterness ages ago, in favor of more productive things.

    Oh, in the deepest pit of Lex’s belly he

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