Reckless Heir (Underworld Kings)

I didn’t answer for long seconds, but when I finally did look at him I could see no judgment, no anger directed toward me. There was this calculation in his eyes, this steady resolve. How was he so different from the men I grew up around? How was he so different from my father?

“Because of the situation that happened with Edoardo.” My voice cracked on that last word as memories of all that blood, the brain splattering across the wall beside me, slammed into my mind like a broken record.

Over and over again. On repeat.

“He blames me, thinks I was having some clandestine rendezvous with him, a scandalous affair that would have ruined his reputation.” I looked down at my lap and twisted my fingers together. “And I don’t care that he thinks I’m a whore. I don’t care that he blames me for anything or everything. I just want to protect my sister. I know that because if he can’t punish me for all that has happened, he’ll take it out on Claudia.”

He stayed silent, too silent that I thought I overstepped bounds, taking liberties that would put me in a bad position with my husband.

Although I didn’t think there was any love lost between Nikolai and my father, saying anything negative in regards to Marco wasn’t something a daughter should do, especially to her husband who had professional ties with him.

I started to feel beads of sweat line my temples, fear skating down my spine. I was shifting on the seat, twisting my shirt in my hands. I couldn’t sit still, all the horrible, awful things that could and would happen bombarding my brain so that’s all I could see and think and feel and hear

“Amara.”

It was the hard, rough sound of Nikolai’s voice pulling me out of my thoughts that had me blinking to clear my vision and looking over at him.

He was leaning forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his thighs as he stared at me severely.

“I…” I was rubbing my palms up and down my legs and noticed the way his gaze dipped down to watch the act for just a second before he brought his focus back to my face.

“Just forget I said anything. Everything‘s fine. Everything‘s fine.” I looked back out the window and bit my bottom lip, feeling like a fool for running my mouth the way I did.

It didn’t matter how Nikolai acted toward me, how he protected me… killed for me. How he’d assaulted my father to keep me safe. None of that mattered at all because he was still the bad guy. He was still part of the same world I was, and in that world, no matter what he said, I had to learn my place. I had to learn to think before I spoke.

I’d only make things worse, not only for me, but my sister as well.

“Come here.”

I looked at Nikolai after that hard command and watched as he slowly straightened before leaning back in the chair, taking on that relaxed position once again. He had his forearms resting on each side of the seat, one hand crawled around the edge of the armrest, his fingers stroking the leather slowly.

He didn’t have to ask again. I braced my hands on the seat and pushed myself up, taking the three steps that required me to stand in front of him.

Despite the fact I was now taller than him and he was looking up at me, I still felt so tiny, so incomparable to his presence.

He was like the sun and I was the earth orbiting around him. He was bright and big and without him I felt cold and dead. It was the most unexplainable emotion I’d ever felt, this feeling that one person held so much power over me.

It was a weakness, another one I certainly didn’t need, but also one I couldn’t get rid of no matter how much I desperately wanted to.

“Come here.” His voice was deep and dark and delicious and I felt it all the way down until it curled my toes.

I knew what he wanted. And so I breathed out slowly and looked down at his slightly splayed thighs, the way he still rubbed his thumb across the leather of the armrest, and then looked back to his face, where I saw his hooded expression.

I positioned myself on his lap, both of my legs resting between his, his hand automatically sliding down the center of my back to settle right above my ass, at the small of my back. His palm seemed so big that it encompassed the entire area.

His finger and thumb were on my chin, slight pressure added as he turned my head toward him. My breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t because of the look on his face, or the way he stared at my lips as if he were a hungry, starving, ravenous wolf.

No, it was none of those things, it was the way his thumb stroked the length of my spine, a gentle touch that went against everything that he seemed to stand for, that I saw when I looked into his blue eyes.

“Come here,” he murmured and I felt the slightest pressure on my chin where his thumb and forefinger still gripped me gently. He could’ve easily moved forward and pressed his lips to mine, used force to bring my mouth to his. But no, he wanted me to take the initiative. He wanted me to kiss him. And I did.

I leaned in and sealed my mouth to his, his lips firm but smooth that I started to get lost in that small sensation.

Our lips moved together, slow at first, inexperienced from me. But he ate my passion, swallowed my breath, and didn’t let up until I was writhing on top of him like a desolate fiend for anything he’d give me.

When he slid his palm up my back and gripped my nape, keeping my mouth to his, stroking his tongue along the seam of my lips until I opened for him, I knew the sliver of control he’d given me was over.

He was now back in control and I softened and grew wetter over the fact.