Page 60 of Illicit Games

An electric current slithers down my spine as an acute awareness sinks into my bones. The kind that makes every atom in my body sing in obsession and potent yearning.

Before I even turn around, I know he’s here.

My scary reaper.

Nobody else would elicit such a spellbinding reaction in me.

With my heart hammering behind my ribs, I twist around.

And there he is, across the room and just past the entrance, staring right at me with a smoldering intensity.

His eyes lock me in a trance so compelling that my gaze doesn’t make it down his rugged face to his sinewy and ripped body.

What is he doing here?

Why didn’t he tell me he was coming?

My fingers twist in the silky material of my dress as I fight the urge to run to him. Having him close to me in the flesh and not being in his arms is agonizing. I didn’t know it would be this hard to hide he’s mine.

A burning sensation starts in my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the tears at bay.

“Am I tripping or did Kian the captor come out of his cave, Iris?” mutters Rosalie from somewhere behind me.

“Ro!” scolds Bianca.

“He doesn’t strike me as someone who cares about dogs.”

“Probably ’cause you threatened to get him eaten by Bunny.”

“To protect Iris!”

I jolt when an arm winds around my waist. Nathan’s mouth drops to my ear, and he quietly orders, “Stop looking at him. Everyone’s starting to notice.”

The temperature drops to chilling degrees as Kian’s expression turns violent. As scary as a hailstorm racing your way.

I feel trapped. Exhausted. Empty.

Hopeless.

I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.

“Nathan, let—”

Kian takes a step, cutting me off mid-speech. I freeze as he confidently heads in our direction while people part for him like the Red Sea. Nobody dares to approach him, lest they want to be bulldozed out of his way.

Panic bubbles up in my belly.

Good Lord! Is he going to punch his brother? In front of everyone?

I barely get a chance to dislodge Nathan’s grip when a lethal Kian stops an inch away from me. The world disappears as his intoxicating cologne invades my lungs.

Everything happens in slow motion.

His fingertips glide on the inside of my arm to my hand and lace through my fingers. With a gentle but firm tug, I’m pulled out of my fiancé’s grasp and into his front. One hand cupping the back of my neck and the other circling my waist to yank me up onto my toes, his mouth swoops down and claims mine in a possessive kiss.

My body—hell, my entire soul—recognizes him as my soulmate.

Without any fear, I reach up, cupping the sides of his face, and kiss him back.