Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(35)

She’s your enemy. Enemy! Remember?

My brain keeps trying to tell me that, but my dick has other ideas about our relationship.

Other, very strong ideas.

I remove my thumb from her mouth and replace it with my tongue.

She forgets she hates me kissing her and arches into me with a sigh, opening her mouth to kiss me back passionately.

She’s all heat and shivering nerves, pounding pulse and hunger. If her earlier angry resistance surprised me, the way she responds when she’s aroused surprises me even more.

She’s needy. Greedy.

Almost as much as I am.

The kiss grows deeper and hotter. We’re both breathing hard. I’m starting to sweat. I love the way her mouth feels. The sweet, soft heat. Her warm lips. I love the way she clings to me with her body curved and both hands dug into my hair.

I love the feel of her hard nipples against my chest.

I want to feel them against my bare skin, not through my shirt. I want to suck on them, bite them, pinch them until she begs me to fuck her.

And I do want to fuck her.

I want to fuck her hard and deep. I want to make her claw my back and come for me. I want to make her scream my name until she’s hoarse. I want— SHE’S YOUR ENEMY!

I jerk away and stare down at her, trying to catch my breath. Trying to clear my head of the searing images of her naked and moaning underneath me, her breasts bouncing against my chest, her slender legs wound around my waist as I thrust deep inside her body.

Her eyes drift open.

She gazes up at me with a soft, hazy look, blinking slowly like she has no idea where she is. Her face is flushed. Her lips are wet. She whispers my name.

Whispers it so sweetly, it makes me want to break something.

Declan O’Donnell murdered my brother.

One of her family killed one of mine.

I should be anywhere else on earth but in this room with this woman.

My voice comes out thick. “Tell anyone I was here, and they die.”

I rise from the bed and leave.





18





Riley





From one second to the next, he disappears, leaving me alone in the room.

Alone and shaking badly.

I sit up in bed and reach for my glasses on the nightstand. When I get them on, I look around the room in disbelief. It’s exactly the same as it was when I went to sleep.

Except now it smells like big, rugged male and unresolved sexual tension.

I rip off the glasses, turn over, bury my face into the pillow, and scream.

It doesn’t help.

I still want him.

Him, the assassin who’s going to kill Declan.

Him, the asshole who threatened to kill me.

Him, the killer, stalker, walk-through-solid-walls son of a bitch who touches me like I’m made of glass and kisses like he’s starving.

Man, I thought I had a messed up romantic life before, but this is some next level shit right here.

Rolling back over, I shove my glasses on again and rise from bed. Heart hammering, I open the door and peek out into the hallway. It’s dark and silent. All is still.

Oh, god—what if it’s so still because Spider and Kieran are already dead?

With a strangled sound of horror, I tear down the hallway into the main living area. It’s dark in here, too, but there’s a blue glow from a cable box near the TV that lets me see where I’m going. I run into the kitchen and hit the lights, expecting to see a trail of blood on the floor or bloody handprints or brain matter decorating the walls.

When I find neither, I stop to drag in a breath. I lean against the counter, bracing myself to go search the rest of the bedrooms. Preparing myself mentally to deal with whatever carnage I might find.

“What’s the craic, lass?”

I jump, scream, and whirl around.

Spider stands in the doorway of the kitchen, blinking sleepily.

His white dress shirt is rolled up his forearms and open at the throat. His jaw is shadowed with stubble. His hair is mussed.

There are no visible bullet holes in him.

I’m so relieved, I nearly slide to the floor. Instead, I press a hand over my thundering heart and start laughing weakly.

He frowns.

“Sorry. God, I’m so sorry, I just…I thought…”

“Tell anyone I was here, and they die.”

Recalling Malek’s warning, I swallow nervously and avert my eyes. “Um. I was hungry.”

“Hungry,” he repeats suspiciously, looking me up and down.

I make my voice firm, stand straighter, and manage to look him in the eye. “Yep. Starving, in fact.”

“You had a big meal not three hours ago.”

Shit. He would have to remember what time it was when I scarfed down my dinner.

“Don’t shame me for having a hearty appetite, Spider. I like to eat.” I saunter over to the fridge, pull open the door, and stare inside.

This is when I realize that all I’m wearing is the short T-shirt and white cotton undies I went to bed in.

White cotton undies that are probably soaked right through.

I shut the fridge door, turn around, fold my hands in front of my crotch, and force a smile. “On second thought, I think I’ll go back to bed. It’s never a good idea to go to sleep on a full stomach. See you in the morning.”