Chapter 37
By now, it had become so easy to just melt in his arms, without question or doubt. His lips knew where to kiss me, how to kiss me, and his fingers slid against my skin as if they had done it a thousand times. He pinned my hand down to the bed.
We moved slowly, quietly–bare skin to bare skin. He was slow, as if cherishing every moment, and his kisses traced every scar, small or big, on my skin.
“I want to know every story,” he said as he kissed me.
Breathless, I was unable to reply as I arched my back, giving in to him completely.
The ecstasy climbed through me slowly as he slid inside of me, kissing me raw and slow. He didn’t stop–every move of his was measured and controlled. He held me like I was the one who had been shot as he thrust, as if time had stopped for us. I moved to meet him halfway until we both lost our minds.
Breathing heavily, he slumped over me. I stroked his back absentmindedly until my hands reached the bandage. It was still intact. I kissed his temple, and he raised his head, brushing my hair away from my face gently.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“Not when I’m like this with you,” he murmured. Then he pushed himself inside me again, and I felt him getting harder.
“You’re insatiable,” I whispered.
“I want to stay like this,” he said, kissing me.
I touched the back of his head, brushing through his hair. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
He grabbed both of my hands, raised them above me, then suddenly flipped me onto my front, thrusting from behind.
“Ah!” I muffled my voice against the pillow.
He sweetly kissed the back of my neck, brushing all my hair away, then moved down my spine. Farched my hips, pulling him deeper. He groaned in pleasure.
The second time turned into the third quite quickly.
When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. I heard pages rustling and turned, pulling the sheets over my chest. Killian, dressed in just his pants, was sitting on the chair, looking over my table. My half–written assignment was in his hands, illuminated by the lamp.
“There are no secrets in it,” I said.
He looked at me.
“I can see that, but how did you choose this painting?” He raised a black–and–white photocopy of a picture–a Thai lady from 1759 sitting elegantly, gazing forward at whoever was painting her. He turned the page toward me. In the soft yellow lamplight, his tattooed torso was shrouded–half in light, half in darkness. In my opinion, he should be painted instead.
“I randomly pulled it from Google. The assignment is due in two weeks.”
“Do you know who this is?”
I crawled to the edge of the bed, laying on my front where the chairs were just two feet away, resting my chin on my palm, raising my feet in the air. The sheets pooled down to my knees,
“Don’t know, don’t care. But I have to figure it out so I can write something and get a passing grade.”
He looked at the image, then at me. I watched as he tilted his head.
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Chapter 37
“Her eyes… they look like yours.”
He had a completely serious look on his face.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I snatched the picture back and got up on my knees, stepping out of bed. But he encircled his arms around my waist, pulling me onto his lap again. As I put the picture down, his hands started to wander once more.
Assignment aside, there were other important things that needed to be discussed. I got up to get dressed.
He grabbed my hand. I turned.
“I’m getting dressed,” I said.
“Why?” He tugged at the corner of the sheet. I tightened my hold over it.
“Because we need to talk, and your hands forget to stay in place.” I slapped them away.
“Why are you always all business?” He tugged again, and this time, to save the sheet from being ripped off me, I stumbled but held my ground. He grabbed my free hand.
“When else will we be?” I said. “We don’t have much time, and there are several points I need to discuss with you.”
“You’re always walking away from me. Don’t walk away from me,” he said, pulling me toward him with a sigh. As I sat back on his lap, his arms circled my waist, but this time, he stayed still. “I’ll listen.”
“And behave,” I warned, giving him a look.
“Behaving,” he said.
I suppressed a smile.
“First, how did you even get a mole in your personal guards?” That question had been burning in my mind since this morning.
A muscle twitched at the side of his jaw.
“There was a temporary change. I didn’t even know his name. The personnel who put him there is being investigated.”
I nodded, “And did he talk?”
“Yes. I sent you a recording.”
Yes. After talking to Jina, I had started repairing my broken screen. I must have missed it.
“I haven’t listened to it. What did it say?”
“He entered the guard training three years ago. Christen Meng had already been spying on me. It was a coincidence that the day he finally got close enough to watch me, you were also there. He knew you as Mila Anderson. Apparently, Adeline is quite close with Christen Meng.” He gave me a look.
The way he said it made his meaning clear.
I shuddered with disgust. “Yeah, move on.”
“Adeline knows nothing of your hidden identity, but she had your information spread through Christen Meng’s men.”
My shoulders went stiff, and he stroked my back in a soothing motion. I relaxed.
“Good thing the two people who saw your face as M are captured,” he said. “And after today, they won’t be doing much talking.”
I kept my expression neutral.
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Chapter 37
“Would you like to take a shower?” he asked after I remained silent for a while, I nodded.
He let go of me as I stood up. For a moment, there was resignation in his expression. He looked away, a stoic look on his face. I observed him for a moment, waiting. He made no move to follow me.
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I wasn’t someone who could make light of a situation just to spare someone’s feelings, and I didn’t know how to deal with this part of his life. It didn’t make me pull away from him, but it did make me question my own mind.
“I don’t like it–that’s true. And I can never like it,” I said. “But I also find myself unable to condemn you for it. You are what you are, and I am what I am, in many ways, I am no better.” My voice was measured, calculated. I hoped it wouldn’t give any misgivings–like my feelings for him. It was too soon, and i wasn’t ready.
He looked up at me, the darkness in his eyes flickering–returning to light, like a tiny star forming inside a black hole, if such a thing were possible.
I tugged the sheet around me, securing it before freeing my hands. “Now, let’s take a shower.”
I grabbed his good arm and pulled him up, but first, I retrieved a roll of bubble wrap and some tape from the lowest drawer of my study table.
“You’re not serious,” he said, disbelief in his voice.
“I’m 100% serious,” I said, pulling him toward the bathroom.
“Mila, this is unnecessary,” he grumbled as I pulled out scissors, cutting the bubble wrap into a big square.
“Why don’t you do me a favor and run a bath?” I lowered my voice to keep it from echoing.
“It’s just a-”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, turning to fill the bathtub, adding scented oil and everything.
When I was ready, I hoisted myself onto the bathroom counter. “Come here.”
He glanced at me, then at the piece of bubble wrap in my hand.
“It’s called precaution. Don’t be a child.”
A glazed look crossed his face, as if he was thinking of something far away. Then he nodded and stepped forward. I touched his shoulder, turning him around to start covering the bandage. The silence between us this time was comfortable.
“I don’t believe it,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“That you’re no better than me.”
“I’m no angel, Mr. Knight,” I said.
He had no idea what I had done.
“You don’t have to kill to ruin people,” I murmured. “There are things far worse than death.”
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