Page 72

Something in him softens, then breaks. He leans in. Kisses me like he’s starving.
And then we’re kissing again, slower this time. No games. Just mouths and hands and need.
I climb into his lap, straddling him. Letting him in inch by inch.
He groans, like the feel of me might undo him. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers into my neck. “Dahlia. Goddess.”
My heart lurches. It’s the first time he’s called me that.
I hold his face, eyes stinging. “You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Making me slide deeper than I want to.”
He grips my hips tighter. Breath shallow. “Maybe I want you to.”
I ride him slowly, tenderly. Letting the ache between us melt into something sweeter. Every thrust a declaration neither of us can vocalize yet.
When I come, it’s with his name against my lips like a lullaby.
And when he follows, it’s with a broken sound I’ve never heard from him before.
Like surrender.
Dante
She’sasleep against my chest, one hand curled against my ribs like she trusts me not to disappear.
God help me, I don’t deserve this girl.
I don’t deserve her laugh, her fire, the way she tears into code and danger like it’s foreplay. The way she takes every part of me, even the ones I’ve spent years hiding.
And now I’m terrified.
Because I’ve given her everything. My secrets. My revenge. My soul.
I brush a kiss into her hair and whisper, “What the fuck are we doing, little thief?”
She stirs. Eyes flutter open, still hazy with sleep. “Winning.”
I laugh, low and hoarse. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Her voice is soft. “And when it’s over, maybe I’ll let you keep me.”
I should tell her not to say that. Should remind her that we made a deal. Thirty days. No more.
But the words die in my throat. Because I don’t want thirty days anymore.
I wantforever.
And that scares me more than the Vesper Syndicate ever did.
Dahlia
The soundof Dante’s breathing anchors me as I stare at the ceiling.
I can’t sleep. Can’t stop thinking about what we’ve done—what we’re about to do.