Queen Takes Rose (Wicked Villains 6)

She lets me lead. As I grip her thighs and suck on her clit, I distantly recognize that she’s taking care of me even now, offering me an escape I desperately need. My heart gives a dull thud and then another. Gods, I can’t fall for Malone. I can’t. Everything else is forgivable, but not that.

I’m terrified that it’s too late.

That maybe it was too late the moment I agreed to this assignation.

I push two fingers into her, chasing her pleasure the same way I chase forgetting. She arches her back, and I find myself captivated by the sight of her. The arch of her spine. The way her breasts shake with each ragged exhale. Most of all, the way she holds my gaze as I taste her. It’s so tempting to close my eyes, to shut out this vulnerability. Except… I don’t want to.

I pick up my pace, focusing on winding her pleasure tighter, on driving her higher. I want to see her come undone; I want to be the one to cause it.

I want her to remember these two weeks forever.

When Malone orgasms, it’s as beautiful and powerful as she seems to do everything. She barely slumps back to the mattress before she’s tugging me up her body and kissing me as if this is the last time. As if she cherishes me. As if she never wants this to end.

She pulls away a little. “Aurora.”

“Please.” I don’t know what I’m begging for. I just know we can’t follow the road where her tone leads. “Please not yet.”

She exhales slowly and leans up to press her forehead to mine. The contact grounds me even as part of me continues to spiral out of control. Finally, she gives me another long kiss and eases back. “Let’s run you a bath.”

I blink. “What?”

“You’re going to be extremely sore today. The bath will help.” She gives a ghost of her normal cruel smile, though her eyes remain warm. “Otherwise you’re going to be limping around for days, and neither one of us wants that.”

Now that she mentions it, I am incredibly stiff and sore from the scene last night. I grimace. “You didn’t miss an inch of skin, did you?”

“No.” She carefully nudges me off her. “It’s what you needed.”

I can’t argue that because it’s the truth. It is what I needed. I sit up and look at her. It feels strange to say this but… “Thank you. For last night. You didn’t have to do that, any of it.”

“Aurora.” She cups my face and presses a quick kiss to my lips. She’s gone before I can sink into it, climbing to her feet and heading for the bathroom. “Don’t you understand by now? It’s my pleasure to take care of your needs. You’re mine, after all.”

Only for another week or so.

I don’t say it aloud. We both are in this strange place and thrusting forth the reminder that this is nearly halfway over isn’t what I want to do. I don’t think it’s what she wants, either, though I’m scared to try to guess. Instead, I let myself play her words over and over in my head as I listen to her get the water running in the bath.

You’re mine, after all.

It feels right, which means it feels wrong. How can I simultaneously want to be Malone’s but also acknowledge that she’s the one who put my mother in a coma that she was destined to never wake up from? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Malone returns a few minutes later and looks down at me. “Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you?”

I can walk. There’s no doubt about it. I’ll probably be limping just like she projected, but I am capable of it. I lick my lips, feeling suddenly unsure. “What if I want you to carry me?”

She gives a smile that’s nothing like her usually icy expression. It’s warm and soft and makes my chest give another of those dull thuds. “I’d like that, too.” She carefully scoops me up and gives a sympathetic look when I hiss at the touch of her arm against the back of my thighs. “I know it hurts. It will feel better in a little bit.”

She carries me into the bathroom and sets me into the tub with the utmost care. Malone grabs a hair tie and gently pulls my hair back and fastens it out of the way, allowing me to sink into the warmth of the water. She presses her fingers lightly to my temples and starts a slow massage that has me melting even further.

We sit like that for a long time, Malone carefully massaging my head and neck and the water doing the rest of the work. I feel ridiculously pampered and cared for, and it only makes my chest ache more. I love this. Last night and this morning. The kink and the sex and the comfort. Truth be told, I even love our conversations. Sometimes it’s verbally sparring and sometimes it’s simply getting a glimpse at how her brain works. She’s magnificent. A part of my soul recognizes something in hers that feels like kinship, even if I can’t fully describe why. “Malone?”