Page 60 of Brutal Devil

“As far as I’m concerned,itwas a one-off. And it certainly won’t happen again.”

Priest cups my face, his eyes intent. “You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better, but we both know the truth.”

And then he kisses me, hot and hard and possessive. I’m so taken aback that I do nothing for a second, just stand there in the hall with his mouth on mine. And then some stupid, instinctive part of me snaps to attention and kisses him back. I kiss him like this is our last goodbye before he goes off to war, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing our bodies together.

Why do I want him so much?

Why does kissing him feel so perfect, his hot, muscled body pressing into mine with such perfection?

It dawns on me I still taste myself on his lips, the knowledge making a flare of heat go straight to my pussy, before he ends the kiss.

He takes my hand, his expression inscrutable, and laces his fingers with mine. “Come. I’ll show you the living room.”

“I mean it, Priest,” I insist weakly as he pulls me down the hall and into a living area that’s as cavernous as it is ornate.

If I thought the elevator was palatial, this so-called living room is next level. Marble floors, a huge chandelier, an impressionist painting flanking the biggest flat-screen I’ve ever seen, and a massive black velvet sectional.

“Here we are,” he says, releasing my hand and going to a marble-topped table where a remote sits neatly in the center. “If you need anything, call for Basil. Say ‘Hey’ first. That’s his wake-up phrase.”

I blink. “Wait. I’m sorry. What?”

“Basil’s our virtual assistant. He can turn lights on and off. Same with the TV, the volume. He can even call me if you need me, which is why you don’t need a phone.”

This shit just gets weirder by the moment. I don’t know if it’s the post-sex oxytocin that’s making me feel light-headed and confused or if it’s the parallel universe I seem to have fallen into. The one where dangerous mobsters locked me in an underground bunker and they have a virtual assistant namedBasil.

“Somehow, I feel like this is information that would have been helpful, oh, I don’t know, maybe a week ago? Also, the reason I need my phone has nothing to do with you. You’re the last person I plan on calling.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “From now on, I’m the first. I’m your husband.”

“Temporarily. It’s a formality that will soon be rectified.”

He gives me a look that’s dark and dangerous and yet somehow makes something deep inside me melt. “You’re my wife, Luna. Mine. And I protect what’s mine. So sit down, prop up your fucking feet, and watch whatever you want to watch like the good, nerdy little poet you are.”

“I’m not a nerd.”

“Yes, you are, and it’s hot as fuck.” He kisses me again, aggressive and fast.

I like it way more than I should.

“Sit.”

I glare at him. “I’m also not a dog.”

The corner of his mouth kicks up into a half grin. “Oh, I know that baby. Believe me, I know. Sit. I’ll be back in half an hour or less.”

He’s bossy, but I don’t feel like putting up much of a fight. Suddenly, I’m tired. Maybe it’s the after-sex glow descending. Orgasms will do that to a girl.

“Please,” he adds when I don’t respond.

Is it wrong that I think it’s kind of adorable he’s trying to persuade me rather than barking out orders? Yes. I need to have my head examined.

But I relent anyway, settling myself onto the couch.

He leans down and brushes a kiss over my forehead, then grabs a plush throw and tucks it around me like I’m a child. “Stay here until I’m back.”

I raise my brow as if to sayreally? Where can I possibly go? Also, it’s not lost on me, the tender way he’s taking care of me. Even if he’s keeping me here against my will, there are unexpectedly tender sides to this brutal devil. I just can’t keep forgetting that he’s my enemy. That despite what he said about Leo, it’s entirely possible the Andrianisdidkill my brother.

He straightens and starts to leave.