Page 115 of Haunted

Xavier’s mouth curves into that dangerous smile that made me want to run the first time I saw it. Now, it makes me want to pull him closer.

“Good.” His thumb traces my jawline, sending shivers down my spine. “Criminals do everything better anyway.”

I raise an eyebrow, fighting my own smile. “Everything?”

“Everything.” His voice drops to that low rumble that makes my thighs clench. “We’re more passionate, more focused. When we want something, we take it. When we claim something, we keep it.”

“And modest to a fault, apparently.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin as he trails kisses down my neck. “Modesty is for men who have something to be modest about.”

“Such arrogance,” I breathe, even as I tilt my head to give him better access.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” His teeth graze my neck. “Who wants a good boy anyway?”

The question makes me laugh despite the heat building between us. “Most women, I’d imagine.”

“Most women are idiots.” His hands slide down to grip my waist, fingers digging into the silk. “A hero—he’ll abandon the woman who loves him to uphold the world’s empty ideals.”

I pull back to meet his gaze. “And a bad man?”

Xavier’s grip tightens possessively. “A bad man sees nothing sacred except the woman who bears his mark—everything else is collateral damage in her protection.”

The statement should terrify me, considering the casual way he talks about violence, about choosing me over innocent lives. But heat pools low in my belly, and I have to admit I’m not mad about it.

“That’s... incredibly disturbing,” I whisper.

“Is it?” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip. “Or is it exactly what every woman secretly wants? A man so obsessed with her that nothing else matters?”

“Xavier...”

“Tell me honestly, Mira. When you were a little girl dreaming about your future husband, did you fantasize about a man who would choose to save some stranger over protecting you?”

I should say yes. Should tell him that I want someone heroic and selfless. But the lie won’t come.

“No,” I admitquietly.

“No,” he agrees, his voice rough with satisfaction. “You wanted someone who would choose you. Every single time.”

His lips brush against mine as he speaks, not quite a kiss, but close enough to steal my breath.

“A criminal will always choose his woman over his conscience. A good man will choose his conscience over his woman.” Xavier’s eyes burn into mine. “Which would you rather have warming your bed?”

Heat floods my cheeks as the answer rises unbidden. “You.”

His hands move differently this time—slower, more reverent as they slide the silk nightgown from my shoulders. I arch into his touch, desperate to feel his skin against mine, but he takes his time, pressing kisses to each inch of exposed flesh.

“Xavier,” I breathe his name like a prayer, my fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. “Please.”

He catches my wrists gently, bringing them to his lips. “Let me.”

The tenderness in his voice undoes me. This isn’t the commanding Xavier from the Hunt, the beast that took what he wanted. This is something else entirely—something that makes my chest ache with emotions.

He undresses slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. When he’s finally bare, he covers my body with his, making me gasp at the contact. Every nerve ending comes alive as he kisses me deeply, his tongue moving against mine in a dance that feels both familiar and new.

“I need you,” I whisper against his mouth, the wordsspilling out before I can stop them. “I need you so much it scares me.”

Xavier pulls back to look at me, with a soft expression in a way I’ve never seen. His thumb traces my cheekbone as he settles between my thighs.