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Avenge :Romanian Mob Chronicles(92)

By:Kaye Blue


Fear of what I might see.

We stayed that way for a moment, his heart beating against my chest, the rhythm vibrating against my cheek, but soon he disentangled us, grasped my chin in his hand, and tilted my head up so that I met his eyes.

The warmth, the affection, the completely unexpected kindness I saw there shifted me. I had prepared myself for everything. Found out all I could about the clans, the tortures they preferred, the crimes they committed. But this…human decency, kindness of a sort that only my brother and very few others had ever shown me…

I hadn’t prepared for that.

Nor the soft smile that lifted his lips, the way my heart fluttered at the sight of it. I hadn’t prepared for that either.

“Ask,” he said.

I couldn’t deny him, wondered if I’d have the power to deny him anything.

“You can tell me to butt out. It’s none of my business, anyway, I just—”

My words were cut off by his lips against mine, his firm, powerful, yet oh-so-gentle caress coaxing out a deep sigh.

He broke away, stared down at me again. “Ask.”

I smiled despite myself. “So pushy,” I said.

He smiled, but then waited. Waited until I finally said, “When I said that I was there to help your father, you…reacted, enough that you felt compelled to come here. Why?”

He was reacting now too. His eyes, which had been playful, uncommon for him, clouded, and the lightness that had danced in his expression went away. I wanted it back. Hated myself for wanting it back, but I did nonetheless.

I threaded my fingers in the hair at the base of his strong neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said, stroking at his hair.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not you. It’s just that…”

His eyes took on a far-off expression, and I waited. After a few moments, it occurred to me that, where before I would have been anticipating this, anxious for any little nugget of information that might give me a leg up, help me get closer to destroying Clan Constantin, now I was anticipating this, anxious, but for an entirely different reason.

I wanted insight. Wanted to know who Anton was.

Cared who he was.

He’d shown me unexpected tenderness, shown me passion beyond my imagination. That alone was enough, but it wasn’t the reason, not the real one. Each time I’d seen him, I’d felt something—fear, attraction, something else I hadn’t been able to name. But over these hours I’d realized what it was.

Anton made me believe—hope—that I didn’t have to be alone.

I’d given up that fantasy long ago if I’d ever had it at all. The one where I loved someone, cared for them and they me, the one where I wasn’t utterly alone, the one where I was free of plots, schemes, revenge… I tried not to even think of it, dream of it. But here, now, with him, it seemed possible.

And I could love him for that.

He looked at me again. “I’ve always known that he was…my father. Everyone did. But no one ever said it out loud. Still don’t. It’s just kind of there, like my breath. I don’t think about it. No one really does. So for you to say it like that, like it was no big deal, no secret, just a fact. It was…different.”

“Different bad?”

I asked the question even though reason told me to leave it alone, not to get deep, or any deeper. But the words came out anyway.

“No. Just different. I’m long beyond the point where it has the power to affect me. I was just surprised.” His eyes went bright again. “But I shouldn’t be, at least not with you. You seem to do that with relative ease.”

“Do I, now?” I asked, falling into the play of the moment despite all that surrounded us.

He kissed my ear, made his way down my neck as I shivered beneath him. “You do,” he said.

“Maybe I should return the favor,” he whispered, his voice against my skin making me moan.

“Maybe you should,” I said.

And when he closed his lips around my nipple, I didn’t say anything else.











Lily





My sluggish mind could barely comprehend his words. It was too filled with the feeling of his skin against mine, the pulses that still ran through me, the way my body tingled from his touches.

The thin sheet grated against my tender nipples, and every time I moved, my sex throbbed, the slight pain a reminder of him inside me, the tingle that spread low in my belly when I clenched, my sex reminding me of how empty I was without him, how I wanted him inside me again.

But those feelings, the need that he had awakened, were almost muted by the other, much more potent feelings that lying next to him, cocooned in the strength and warmth of his arms, evoked. Here, in the darkness of this room, I was safe, at peace, something I could hardly recall being before.