Page 72 of Veiled Yearning

“NO.” It’s a near shout. “Gav, no. No.” Tears well up even as her eyes flash fire at me. Voice rising, she continues, “It’s too dangerous. For you. For anyone. They could kill you. I can’t let you do that. I can’t. Please.”

Dammit. Chiara’s tears are my undoing.

Before, I would have thrown myself into it without hesitation. But now?

“Okay.” I stroke my hand down her back, trying to soothe away the small tremors. “I won’t do it.”

“I agree.” Titus’s gravelly voice draws everyone’s attention. “The risk is too great. Whoever is captured could end up killed immediately. Or their power could be stolen and used against us.”

Chiara’s still trembling next to me, her jaw set in a rigid line, gnawing on her bottom lip as she tries to force her tears back. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling awful for upsetting her.

Her eyes are pink and glassy as they meet mine. “You can’t sacrifice yourself for me,” she whispers fiercely. “I love you too much for that.”

“Okay.” But I love her so much, I’d sacrifice myself for her in a second.

“I have an idea.” Lucas leans forward on the couch. “Why can’t I create a hallucination to make the Custodians think we’re going somewhere else?”

Larkin raises his eyebrows at Lucas. “What are you thinking?”

“Well.” A tiny smile appears. “If I create the illusion of the Sentinels heading into a different house, say… Saratoga, or Syracuse. Someplace far from Potsdam. If we can convince the Custodians we’re all there, and then the next day we head out from here… it could help us move undercover.”

Larkin looks to Frederick and I, asking silently for our opinions. After a series of lifted brows and loaded glances, we come to a consensus. Then Larkin nods at Lucas and says, “That’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow, you’ll create the illusion. And the following day, we’ll head to Potsdam to finish this thing.”

22

A Special Gift

CHIARA

As Gavril’s lips move down my body, everything else falls away.

All my worries, fears, anxieties are all washed away in a storm of need.

My skin is alive with static electricity, and each kiss sends a jolt of pure arousal through me.

Everything is so sensitive, so alive—I’m hyper-aware of everything. Each caress of his fingers, every stroke of his tongue, and each time he nips at me, drawing a pinprick of blood and then a flare of desire.

And looking at him.

Gavril is, as always, breathtaking. He’s hard and soft, the most tempting incongruity. Tall and broad and all hard muscle, like a gladiator ready to protect me at a moment’s notice. Eyes dark with desire, his jaw clenched tight as he holds himself back until I’m fully ready.

But then he’s soft, too—his velvety skin, the way he touches me so tenderly, and then when his gaze softens, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world.

“Chiara.” Gavril lifts his head to meet my gaze. His voice is a throaty growl. “You are so damn beautiful. I never want to stop touching you.”

As his fingers pluck at my nipple, I arch toward him and gasp, “Then don’t.”

Gavril smiles. “Ah, gorgeous. After this, I’m hiding you away for months.”

Then he dips his head and keeps kissing me, moving from my belly to the apex of my thighs.

When his mouth comes over my swollen and sensitive bud, my inner walls convulse, and my hips jolt toward him. My womb clenches, and an ache builds inside me; a desperate need to be filled.

I’m slick and hot and ready for him, opening like a flower in bloom.

Big hands hold my hips in place while he licks and sucks on that little bundle of nerves until I’m making keening noises in the back of my throat and all I can think about is feeling Gavril deep inside me.

I’m mindless with need, and my body takes over.

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