Page 11

Naomi had just finished washing the last dish in her sink when a knock came at the front door. Her belly did a little flip. Because it could only be Luka, couldn’t it? He’d warned her that he’d be back, and he didn’t strike her as someone who’d procrastinate.

She set the dish on the drainer and then wiped her hands on a small kitchen towel. It might not be him , she told herself as she walked through the house. You live among most of your lair — any one of them could have decided to pay you a visit.

But as she looked through the peephole, she saw that she’d been correct in her initial assumption. Luka stood outside, staring right at the peephole as if he somehow knew that she was peering through it.

She pulled back and adjusted the strap of her dress, a sizzling excitement crawling through her system.

Given who Luka was and what he could do, she supposed she should at the very least be a little conflicted about reaching out to take what he’d offered.

Or, more specifically, declared that he wanted. But, well, that simply wasn’t the case.

Mentally, she’d gone back and forth over it throughout the day. Really, she didn’t see a true reason to turn him down. He’d only want something light. He wouldn’t shove his nose into her business. And if the rumors were true, he had some serious game in the bedroom.

Where were the negatives?

Oh, there were likely some. But she knew that she’d nonetheless cave at some point, so what did it matter? It was really just a matter of when.

When might as well be now, mightn’t it?

Her entity certainly thought so, having no reservations about him; still a big fan of the danger and power he embodied.

Bracing herself for the up-close impact of him, Naomi opened the door. And her breath did a little hitch. Because there was really no bracing yourself for Luka.

God, he was one magnificently masculine bastard. A bastard as imposing as the need he roused in her. She wasn’t sure it would go away unless she actively slaked it. Another reason to hesitate turning him down.

His gaze traveled down her body in what was nothing short of a blatantly hot eye-fuck. Their gazes collided again, his own holding a predatory light that made her demon stir in delight.

He didn’t ask if she was going to let him inside. He just arched a brow—a gesture that seemed both a dare and a challenge.

Moving aside to allow him entrance, she waved at the twins. Like last time, one leaned against the vehicle while the other waited in the driver’s seat.

After closing the front door, Naomi did as she had the previous night and followed Luka into the living area, coming to a halt in the center of the space.

He turned to face her, his eyes pinning her with a penetrating, assessing stare. “I’d begin by asking how your day went, but I think we’d both rather I just get to the point.”

He wasn’t wrong on that score.

He planted his feet. “Last night, I told you exactly what I want from you. Unfortunately, your anchor arrived before we could reach the part of the conversation where you told me if we’re on the same page.”

“I didn’t get the impression that you doubted we were.” Arrogant bastard. He somehow made that arrogance work for him, though.

His lips hitched up. “A person doesn’t always act on what they want. In this case, I fully intend to do so.” Her heartbeat accelerated as he covered the small space between them in one smooth glide. “The question is . . . do you?”

She worried her lower lip. “A voice in my head keeps telling me that I’d be dumb to get involved with a demon who runs a criminal empire.” A voice that sounded a lot like Tobe’s.

Luka’s eyes dipped down and boldly traced the shape of her mouth. “But?” he asked, his gaze sliding back to hers, hunger pooling there and acting as a punch to her gut.

“But . . . I find that I don’t care.”

Pure male satisfaction bloomed in his eyes. “That’s a good thing, Naomi.”

Her entity agreed. “That remains to be seen.”

He dragged a fingertip down the side of her face. “I’ve told you, you’re in no danger with me. I’m not a good person—that I’ll admit. But no harm will come to you at my hands, or at those of my demons.”

“Not even Belial?”

His eyes bled to black, the air cooling as one of his demons surfaced. The hint of cruelty in the depths of its otherwise flat gaze told her that it was likely Belial. “I will not hurt you,” it said. “Unless I think you will like it.”

She swallowed, admittedly a tiny bit intimidated by this entity. She wasn’t afraid of it, just instinctively wary. So much malice lived in its gaze. Her own demon kind of liked that, though. “Pain doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Hmm, we shall see.”

“No, we won’t. You’ll take my word for it.”

“You do not fear me, do you?” the demon hummed. “This pleases me.”

She felt her brow pinch. “I thought you liked terrifying people.”

It lowered its head toward hers, its black gaze all too penetrating. “Not you.” The entity retreated . . . and Luka’s eyes bored into hers. “Does that ease your concerns?” he asked.

She dipped her chin.

He fingered one of her curls, and her heart slammed against her ribcage.

There was nothing sexual about his touch, but it didn’t matter.

Excitement still rushed through her blood.

Anticipation still drummed over her skin.

And now she was near to vibrating with the most basic of needs. She couldn’t lie, it shook her.

He shook her.

Her demon was no less affected by him, because it wasn’t just preternatural power he wielded.

It was the sheer power that came from being so very and unabashedly male .

The guy, unknowingly or not, brandished it like a weapon.

And now her body was an absolute mess—heart pounding, hormones drunk, feminine parts tingling.

“So you’re agreeing to be mine for at least the next few months?”

“Yes.” Her voice broke, and something lit his eyes at the little crack in her composure. Something predatory and indecent.

He edged even closer, sucking up all her oxygen. “ Only mine,” he pushed in a thick whisper, the soft words fanning her face.

She licked her lower lip, and his eyes tracked the movement. “Yes.”

“Even if your anchor objects?”

“Even if.”

“Even if your family objects?”

“Even if. Quite frankly, it’s not their business.”

Satisfaction crawled through Luka, and his entities relaxed. “Good.”

She lifted and dropped her shoulders. “So, what now?”

“Now” —Luka dipped his face to hers again, watching her pupils dilate—“I’m going to take you. Use you like the plaything I’ll make you. And then I’ll use you some more.” He knotted a hand in her hair and tugged her head back slightly. “But not here. I want to fuck you in your bed.”

Her tongue swiped out to lick at her bottom lip again. “Okay.” She led him upstairs and into a very feminine bedroom that was all lavender paint and white-gloss wood.

He only distantly registered the details, his attention on her. An attention that dropped to her lips again. “I want at that mouth.” So he took it, sweeping his tongue inside. Her taste—sweet and succulent—sprang into his system, planting a flag in his sensory memories.

Keeping a tight grip on her hair, he devoured her greedily.

Her song had been pattering insistently at his skin and willpower since he arrived.

Sexual chemistry had just kept brewing between them, rising with every breath they took.

And now an all-consuming vicious need slashed at him, drew metaphorical blood, and tore at his composure—painful in its intensity yet bringing his cock to full attention.

Drawing back from the kiss, he dragged his gaze over her from head to toe, a sense of determination beginning to unfurl in his gut. A determination to have, take, dominate. He released her hair and took a step back. “Lose the clothes.”

She swallowed. The tension between them intensified, thickening the atmosphere as the seconds ticked by.

He thought he might have to repeat his order, but then she slowly pulled down the side zipper of her dress. Good girl.

She tugged the straps over her shoulders and allowed the material to swish down her body, leaving her in white lacy underwear that stood out against her tanned—and sparsely inked—skin.

Carnal hunger tightened his belly, fierce and potent. She was seriously fucking beautiful. A sensual masterpiece.

Her movements unhurried, she shed her shoes and underwear. Every inch of her—soft, curvy, perfect—bare for his view, causing pure, molten lust to slam into him.

He strolled toward her, anticipation a drumbeat in his veins.

He loosened his tie and pulled it off, keeping his movements slow, letting the tension simmer and stretch.

He raked his gaze down her body, mapping it, as he blindly tossed the tie onto a plush chair.

“That tattoo looks fresh,” he commented, referring to the pretty and incredibly intricate rose on her thigh, which also featured a small butterfly.

Her gaze fell to his hands as he tackled the buttons of his shirt. “Harper Wallis did it for me earlier today. I’m a fast healer, so it’s only a little tender now.”

In other words, he didn’t need to be careful with her. Noted. “Belial is jealous that someone else marked your skin.” He slipped off his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair.

She stared at his chest, tracing over the tribal ink there. “Mother, may I?” she said to herself with a soft sigh.

Feeling his lips curve up, he crossed to her, looking his fill, drinking in the perfect sight she made.

The scent of her need spiced the air between them; baited him, dared him to touch her.

Again the drive to take gnawed at his control.

His entities stirred restlessly within him, each wanting at her.

Naomi cleared her throat. “I’m naked, but you’re not taking advantage. So lame.”