The Bratva's Heir (Underworld Kings)

It’s impossible to tell where I am. I’ve traveled, but never in Desolation, and outside of the city proper there are too many hotels to count. The question remains, though. If I knew where I was, would I try to escape? No. I'm in too far now. I have to help him find Roxy's murderer. And if it is my father… I can't think of that.

With a quick flash of a card, the door unlocks. He pushes it inward and tugs me in behind him.

“Oh my God,” I breathe when he lets me in. I’ve traveled before. I’ve even lived in the lap of luxury before, but this is amazing. Comfortable furniture, simple with clean lines and soft contours, the room is decorated in earth tones with great accents. There has to be at least five more rooms adjacent to this, one a spa-like bathroom, and one a full jacuzzi and bar that leads to a balcony.

“Wow. This is incredible. Have you been here before?”

He looks around and shrugs. “I haven’t. I came here because Emmanuel’s father owns it.”

“Ah. So you’re safe here?”

His eyebrows go up a bit. “We’re safe here, yes. The men at the door that let me in are armed men of the brotherhood. No one will get to either of us before they get through them.”

I notice a weariness about him. His knuckles still show faint traces of blood from his interrogation of Niall Maguire, and there are a few lacerations I didn’t see before.

“Come, Clare.” He reaches a hand to me, his large palm face up. Waiting for me.

I take a step toward him and slide my palm against his. Gently, so gently I hardly notice what he’s doing at first, he tugs me over to him and kisses my cheek. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs in my ear. “Sweet, beautiful, lovely girl.”

I don’t know what fascinates him so much about me.

I still see nothing more than an average girl who’s a bit haggard after everything that’s happened. I’m not someone he should be interested in, or proud of. I’m as plain as plain can be. And yet, when he looks at me…

I step toward him. He frames me between his legs, his heavy arms coming to rest gently on my shoulders.

“You look perplexed, Clare. What is it?” His brows furrow as he waits for an answer. I shiver, remembering what he did the last time I got a stern look like that.

I shake my head, but he makes me look at him by grasping my chin. “Ah ah, little bird. I asked you a question.”

There’s gentle correction in his tone that makes my heart beat faster. I’m still raw from the punishment I got for disobedience.

“You’re an enigma to me,” I say baldly. It’s the truth. He’s so brutally violent and vicious, yet there’s this tender side I’d bet very, very few have ever seen…

He doesn’t ask me why, or question my statement. He only sighs and nods. “Now that, I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. Every relationship in my life from my parents to my friends has been complicated, for the exact same reason.”

I don’t question this. I believe him.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. “Stay right there.” I don’t move. I hardly breathe. I think I’m physically incapable of defying him after today.

And just like that, the gentle side of Constantine’s gone, the ruthless killer taking its place. He curses in Russian, then asks some questions in a deep, harsh voice that rings with authority. I don’t speak his language, and even I’m quaking.

I turn away from the harsh sound of his scathing words, but he grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me over to him. My body slams into his. He shuts off the phone and flings it. I gasp, but it lands on a pile of cushions on the large, fluffy sofa. He swallows my gasp with a kiss.

With a harsh groan, his tongue lashes mine, and my body gives a spasm of pleasure, as if remembering the echo of orgasm not long ago. His fingers tangle in my hair and give a painful, erotic tug that travels low to my core. I groan, and that only encourages him more.

Fingers clenched, he tugs my head back, and when my mouth opens on a gasp, he deepens the kiss. Constantine may have a gentle side to him, but another side’s unleashed in this kiss. His lips bite, his fingers pull, his body presses mine to his, like he wants to swallow me whole, and the way my body responds it’s like I know intuitively where this goes next.

His mouth travels from my lips to my jaw, unhurried but insistent, while at the same time he’s rapidly undressing me. “I want you naked, little bird. I want to see you. I want to taste you. Then, I want to devour you.”