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Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

Page 9

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This morning, I’ll taste her again.

With Eden, I had to take slow sips and not lose control. Already, I felt like an addict, counting down the next minutes I could be inside of her. And it wasn’t only due to the sweet feel of her pussy. It was because, I was deep inside of her for those moments. Beyond that lovely body. I was within her body. Feeling that slickness. Swimming in her soul. Enjoying her warmth and energy. Covering my skin in her scent. Tasting her in my mouth.

Fuck. I crave her so much.

Last night, she’d gone asleep in my arms looking adorable and sexy. She’d been all splayed out, and more than ready to be fucked. I came close to waking her with my tongue.

I should fuck her now.

But then the sound of plates clattered behind us, signaling the entrance of my staff. They came onto the balcony, setting up the table with fine china. Steam rose from the dishes.

My staff had gotten used to my new morning schedule. Like clockwork with the sunrise, they carted out our breakfast, as if Eden determined the time of meals.

Does she know how much power she has?

I ran my fingers through her curls as Paris came more alive below us. Dawn painted the city in a beautiful haze of gold and blue. And far out in the horizon, pinks and yellows broke through the darkness.

Will my mornings always be like this? Or will there come storms?

Next week, Eden wanted to watch the moon go black. Shift deep into darkness. A blood moon at that. With her newfound brightness in my life, I no longer yearned to witness things shift to black.

But I would watch it with her, probably more gazing at those lips, than the magic happening in the sky.

And Eden wanted to know me. Every bit. My past. My present. The darkness and bright spots. I’d confessed a little. She wanted more.

But how much more would make her run away?

I had to show her the other parts of me. The stuff away from the Corsican. The things besides the blood and pain. The other parts of me that no one else ever saw.

She pulled me out of my thoughts with her sweet voice. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. I never took time out of my day to watch the sun rise.” I turned her around. “Are you ready to eat? I’m sure my staff will be done setting the table soon. You’ve trained them to get up early in the morning.”

“What time do you usually have breakfast?”

“Lunch time.”

Shocked, she opened her mouth.

I kissed her response away. “It’s not important. I like the new schedule.”

It didn’t matter what time she wanted to leave the bed; I’d try to leave it with her. I was finding that I didn’t like the space between us. The few times I had to check on Corsican business, it pained me to no end. I needed to be next to her more than away. Finally—after all these years—I had Eden to myself and I wanted to enjoy every moment.

But there were enemies waiting in the darkness, or were there? I remained on edge, suspicious of the peace rising around us.

Not much had come from our spies in Russia. Yesterday morning, Sasha’s corpse, had been dangling from the flagpole of Moscow’s capital building. That had given us the news of his death.

Kazimir must always be so theatrical. He killed his stepbrother and wanted many to know.

It was clearly a message. To who was my question. Did he understand the part I’d played with Sasha? There’d been whispers that Kazimir searched for Sasha’s accomplices. Other Russians had shown up dead in St. Petersburg, and even in Prague.

By lunch yesterday, Giorgio reported of an odd murder in the updates of Russians killing Russians.

The Lion had even killed his ex-girlfriend.

Kazimir had dated a ballerina for close to a year. She’d been found dead last week, around the same time of his Uncle Igor’s assassination. This had all happened in Prague. Sasha had asked me to go there to kill Igor. I’d declined. I hadn’t wanted any of us near that.

Still, we’d been ambushed in France on regular business.

Some Russians had shot at us near the airport. We’d taken them all out, but it had injured my arm. Today I no longer wore the sling, even though the doctor wanted me to have it on for at least a month. Next to Eden, I didn’t need it.

I’ll be fine.

Still, my head lay boggled with the news. Did the ballerina have something to do with Sasha’s plot to overthrow Kazimir, or had the Lion gone insane, and killed her for fun?

How hurt had Sasha’s betrayal made him? A deranged Kazimir was one I didn’t want to battle.

Yesterday, when the evening came, and I was close to heading back to Eden, our spies reported a new associate of Kazimir. They called the man, the Mouse. Most of the whisperings had come from some drug addicts in Moscow. They’d been in the area where Kazimir had grabbed a lot of men, and ordered them to follow his mouse, but no one had a description of the Mouse.



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