Page 60 of Wicked Bonds

She didn’t move, apart from letting her arm fall after releasing his hair.

If he wanted to admire the view, she wouldn’t stop him. Confidence was a trait they shared. She knew her curves were built to entice, just as her flat abdomen merely accentuated the hourglass of her figure.

She was built to fuck.

As was Balthazar.

Over six feet of solid muscle, tanned skin, and a face made for worship. A proper god with devilish eyes, sexy dimples, and a jawline carved from stone.

This was the kind of man that turned heads everywhere he went. He could tempt anyone he desired into joining him in bed.

But what was so innately beautiful about him was the fact that he would never use those traits to convince someone to break a belief or a vow. He respected everyone around him. Ensured satisfaction for all parties involved. Because he actuallycared.

That was the trait Leela had admired most about him throughout the centuries of observation.

He could use his looks and powers for evil, yet it never even crossed his mind to do so.

Balthazar loved tolive. And he wanted to share that joy with the world.

His lips curled as he read the thoughts from her mind, fully aware of her admitting that she’d observed him for much longer than a few months.

But what did it matter now? She couldn’t fix the rune without Vera’s help, and her friend had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to block Balthazar from her mind.

So why not show him everything?

He already knew about Brazil and what she’d done. She really had nothing else to hide.

And she didn’t really want to hide from him.

Something she suspected he knew, which was why he didn’t even try to stay out of her thoughts. Of course, he’d just said he couldn’t do that even if he attempted to.

Thoughts are his oxygen.

He continued to study her, his fingertips brushing up the sides of her legs as he continued to kneel between her splayed thighs.

“I’m aware that not all thoughts are meant to be heard,” he told her softly. “It’s why I’m the bearer of many secrets. Some that I never desired to know. Others that are useful in understanding intentions while still being decidedly uncomfortable. But they ground me in a way. Make me feel thankful for this life and the beautiful experiences of the world.”

“You’ve never been the type to use your gifts for nefarious purposes.” It was a statement that confirmed what she’d said in her mind about watching him for centuries.

Hell, not centuries.

Millennia.

She’d been aware of his existence for as long as she could remember. Her sensual equal. Or so many would assume.

But her age and experience surpassed his, though she couldn’t quite say by how many decades or centuries. Maybe even millennia.

Time was rather irrelevant to her kind. They lived forever, counted their birthdays in decades or sometimes centuries, and a few via millennia.

Osiris was over ten thousand years old. An ancient.

Vera’s age rivaled Osiris’s, falling short by maybe a few centuries.

While Leela was closer in age to Balthazar, but still older.

“I admire your experience,” B said, his lips curling again to reveal those alluring dimples. “Provides another layer to this challenge.”

“You can’t surprise me.” A lie. He’d certainly surprised her in Brazil.