Page 42 of Sins and Virtue

Blood simmered in my cheeks, feeling weirdly shy. “I was just trying to be useful.”

A lazy rogue smirk settled on his lips. “You can be so without hurting yourself.”

My lips pressed together, lacking the ability to form any words.

Suddenly, he raised my finger to his mouth as he lowered his lips onto my fingertip and sucked the blood.

A wave of confusion bloomed into my bloodstream before it turned into flaming heat.

This was wrong. Dirty. Sinful.

And part of me wanted to slap the daylights out of him, but the way he held onto me made me want to be buried in his hands forever.

Kon stayed like that for a moment longer as he lifted his gaze to mine, my cold heart melting as he then proceeded to kiss every cut on each of my fingers. The soft fresh scent of soap, mint, and strawberries lingered, and a loose curl of his damp hair escaped as he had this bad boy yet gentlemanly rake charm that made him impossible to stay away from.

Then he lifted his lips, breaking away, and a red dot remained in the center.

“You have something,” I told him.

He darted his tongue out and swept the blood off, never breaking our connected gaze.

“Better?” he inquired.

“Better.”

The transaction was more than just physical, yet not quite sexual— more sensual, if anything.

“How’s the pain?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s very hygienic or medically correct to do what you just did.”

He narrowed his eyes, small crow's feet forming, hating my nitpicking as I raised a brow.

"Where's the first aid kit?” He conceded.

“Bathroom, duh.”

“Duh, as if it’s so obvious.” He dropped my hands, breaking away as he turned around and opened the door behind him.

“Well, sweetheart, it’s the most commonly found place.”

He mumbled something in Russian. “Bozhe, ty svodish' menya s uma, no chto by ya delal bez tebya?”

I shook my head, not giving it much thought as my gaze was cast downward, staring at my fingers, at the traces he left of himself. “Ok and it’s on the bottom cabinet next to—”

“Pads and holy water?” He asked, nearly confused, coming back out as he held them in addition to the first aid kit.

Against my better will, a smile burst on my lips. “How else am I supposed to ward off evil spirits?"

“Makes sense for the holy water, but what about the pads? Is that why you’re so sensitive?”

“Oh shut up, you cretin. I found those here. God, I don’t know how your exes put up with you.”

“You want to know?” He suggestively said.

“Nope!”

“Your loss.” He tossed them aside while he placed the kit down afterwards. Flipping the lid open, he searched with his long, calloused fingers, meticulously playing around. The same hands that took lives could be so caring and methodical, like I was the most fragile and important thing in the world.