Ruthless Creatures (Queens & Monsters, #1)(43)

Oh god. That’s barely any time at all.

“And you’d only come here? I could never go to where you live?”

“Never,” he repeats, his voice stony. “We can’t take that risk.”

Risk?

It sounds like there’s something more to it than just him trying to keep me safe from his lifestyle. I mean, mafia men must have families. They must have wives and girlfriends. At least in the movies they do.

So why couldn’t he?

“You’d have a whole other life I know nothing about.”

“Yes. That’s the point. That’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“But…how do I know you don’t have other women?”

“Because I’m giving you my word that I don’t. And I won’t. I never will. If you tell me you’re mine, you’ll be the only woman for me. Forever.”

He’s so serious, staring at me so hard with this unblinking intensity, saying all these words like they’re nothing at all. Making all these crazy promises like he actually means it.

Because he does actually mean it.

David was never like this.

It’s a terrible time to think of him, but a memory pops into my mind of the day David and I went engagement ring shopping.

I knew he was going to propose. There were never any surprises with him. Every move he made was methodical, planned far in advance, plotted out precisely on an Excel spreadsheet. He never took unnecessary risks. He never made rash decisions. He never allowed himself to be carried away with his emotions, even when we made love.

That was planned in advance, too.

Even the sex wasn’t spontaneous.

There was a reserve inside of him, one I couldn’t reach. An untouchable place I bumped up against at unexpected moments, like the Christmas morning I asked him what his favorite memory was from his childhood and his face went blank.

He never did answer the question. He simply changed the subject.

I never brought it up again.

Now, standing here in Kage’s arms with all the need and devotion shining so plainly in his eyes, I realize David and I might not have been as good a match as I thought we were.

I once pledged my life to a man who gave me a budget for an engagement ring. A very small budget. Then disapproved of each one I chose, until finally he suggested it would really make more sense to put the money toward the ailing carburetor that needed replacing in my car.

I pledged my life to a man who folded his dirty laundry before putting it in the hamper.

To a man who made love with his socks on because his feet were always cold.

To a man who always looked away just before I kissed him.

“Kage?”

“Yes?”

“Do you fold your dirty clothes before you put them in the hamper?”

He pulls his brows together. “Of course not. Who the fuck would do that?”

“Are your feet always cold?”

“No. I run a few degrees hot. What are you talking about?”

I already know he doesn’t look away before he kisses me. He looks deep into my eyes, like he doesn’t ever want to look away.

Like he doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“I’m talking about making a stupid decision. One last question.”

“What is it?”

“After you left me in that room at the restaurant, I heard more gunshots. Was that you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. There were two men with guns. They had their sights trained on Stavros and Sloane. I killed them.”

Oh, bridge. High, unstable rope bridge swinging across a roaring river far, far below. I sure hope you’ll hold my weight as I step out onto you.

I whisper, “Okay. Thank you for being honest. You should take me into the bedroom now.”

Without another word, Kage picks me up in his arms.





17





Nat





I already knew Kage was intense, but I’m unprepared for the violence of his need when he gets me down onto the bed.

Whatever he’s been holding back up to now is unleashed.

With a vengeance.

Kneeling on the mattress over me, he rips open the bodice of my dress. The sound of tearing fabric is almost as loud as the sound of my ragged breathing. Then he drags his shirt off over his head, falls on top of me with a snarl, shoves my bra up under my chin, and latches onto one of my rigid nipples.

He greedily sucks it into his mouth.

When I cry out, he pauses his voracious sucking long enough to growl, “Gentle next time. This time, I’m gonna give you my marks.”

He sinks his teeth into the tender flesh below my nipple.

I groan, writhing underneath him. It hurts, but it also feels incredible. Shock waves of pleasure surge through my body from his stinging bite.

He does the same to my other breast, biting it like he wants to devour me whole.

Then he rears back, rolls me onto my belly, unhooks my bra with a practiced flick of his fingers, and yanks my dress down my hips and off my legs. My panties get the same rough treatment.

He tosses everything to the floor. When I look up over my shoulder at him, he’s staring down at my naked body with wild eyes and flared nostrils, tattooed chest heaving, his jaw and big fists clenched.

A thrill runs through me.