Savage Queen (The Dark Elite 3)

As my head clears, I blink rapidly to clear the sleep from my eyes, lifting my head off the pillow. Relief surges through me like a wave when I realize I’m not alone. The bed is empty, but Ciro didn’t leave. He’s on the other side of the room, sleeping in one of the oversized chairs that sits against the wall.

He may have slept separate from me, but he stayed. And that’s enough for me—for now, at least. He didn’t sneak away as if we did something wrong, as if he failed somehow, and to me, that’s more progress than anything that happened between us last night.

My face heats as memories pour through my mind. But it’s not embarrassment that makes me flush.

A smile teases at my mouth, happiness spreading through my entire body as I silently slip out from beneath the covers. A chill rushes over my skin without the warmth of the bed, and the floor is cool against my bare feet. I make my way over to the other side of the room where Ciro sits, moving carefully. I don’t want to startle or disturb him, but I need to be with him.

I need to prove to myself that last night was real.

He looks different when he sleeps. In the early morning light, he looks softer. His dark hair falls over his forehead a little, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. His full lips are parted just slightly, and I have to fight down the temptation to kiss him awake.

Maybe someday. But not now.

Baby steps.

Contemplating the best way to wake him without startling him, I move to the window and pull open the curtains a little, letting the morning sunlight pour into the room. Standing at the window for a second, I let the heat warm my naked skin, glad of the privacy of the second floor.

Ciro doesn’t say anything, but I sense him stir behind me in his sleep, and I turn around slowly. Steely gray eyes flutter open, hazy and fogged with sleep, meeting my own. My heart thuds to life inside my chest at the small smile he gives me.

Because that smile is Ciro, and only Ciro.

Soft and boyish.

Fucking perfect.

His gaze roams my body as I walk back to where he sits, his gray eyes darkening to charcoal as he admires my entirely naked form. He’s seen me naked before, of course, but this feels different somehow. It’s the first time he’s seen me like this—on display just for him, and not in the dark for once.

He doesn’t resist as I crawl onto his lap, straddling him.

In fact, his hands reach out without hesitation to grasp my waist, pulling me closer as I settle into place. I push my hair over my shoulder, leaning my upper body against his as I drop my head and kiss him deeply. His cock hardens between us as his hands slip down my waist and grasp my bare ass, squeezing and groping.

When our kiss finally breaks, I draw back a little, catching my breath. I don’t say anything and he doesn’t say anything, but I don’t think either of us could look away from the other if we tried. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but I can’t stop thinking about him. About what’s happened between us.

“I’m going to go shower,” I murmur, breaking the silence. There’s a suggestion in my voice, but I don’t ask him for anything. I don’t demand.

As I slide off his lap, his hands linger on my skin until the last moment, maintaining contact until I’m out of reach.

I make my way into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the door open and turning on the shower. It rushes to life, and I don’t have to wait long to see if Ciro got my hint. As I pull open the glass door and step under the spray, Ciro appears in the bathroom doorway. He lingers there, hesitating, his gaze fixed on me.

I pretend not to notice. I let him work through his own thoughts as I soap up my body, scrubbing a lot less hard than I did last night.

It’s okay. There will always be other times, I tell myself when I think he’s left the bathroom.

But to my surprise, the shower door slides open a second later. A broad smile crosses my face as his hands grip my hips, pulling me against his naked skin. His hard cock presses into my lower back as he leans down and kisses my neck and shoulders.

I turn around in his embrace, heat flooding my pussy as he brushes up against me, wrapping his arms around my body. His mouth finds mine, water droplets mingling with our kiss.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he murmurs, and I smile against his lips.

He’s right.

Despite everything, it is a good fucking morning.

“I still don’t like it.”

Hale’s voice is tight, his jaw clenched so hard I’m surprised he can get the words out. But when he catches my gaze across the kitchen island where we’ve all gathered for breakfast and coffee, I realize that all the arguments I’ve been preparing since last night won’t be necessary.

Lucas and Zaid were right. He’s changed his mind.