Page 129 of Princes of Carnage

So I nod in silent agreement.

Killian’s eyes turn even more heated, almost pure black from how dark they are. He releases my hair suddenly and turns to leave the room, leaving me blinking after him.

I have no idea where he’s going, but I don’t move from the spot where he left me, still on my knees on the hardwood floor. He comes back a few minutes later, his footsteps quiet on the stairs, and as he re-enters the living room, I realize he’s holding something in his hand.

My breath catches as I recognize what he has. It’s the skull masks that the Princes wear sometimes when they do jobs—the faces etched with skeletal images that match the ones on their helmets. He also has my mask from the club.

“How did you get that?” I ask, although it’s a pointless question. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore by how many little things Killian knows about me, or by how closely he observes everything I do. Of course he knows where I keep that mask.

Killian doesn’t answer, probably realizing the question doesn’t need a response. He just hands it to me with a hard look on his face.

“Put it on.”

My hands tremble with adrenaline and arousal as I do it, settling the mask on my face. It feels more revealing than it usually does. At the club, it’s meant to hide my identity, to work almost as a sort of shield.

Here, it’s just revealing more about what Killian and I got up to, giving more away than it hides.

But when Killian pulls one of the skull masks on, I couldn’t care less. Every part of me is zeroed in on him and the way he looks in that mask.

I know he’s still Killian, still the man who lives in my house and is Nico’s and Atlas’s best friend. But with that mask on, the lines are completely blurred. In this moment, he’s Phantom, standing in front of me, transformed completely into the man from the club.

40

QUINN

Killian hands the other two masks to Nico and Atlas, and they pull them on without question. If they think this is strange, they don’t show it, probably too intrigued by the prospect of whatever is about to happen to really care one way or another.

There’s something about the sight of all three of them like this that makes fear and arousal bloom even higher in me. At the club, things are more controlled. There are people on hand to make sure nothing gets too dangerous, and safe words in place to protect people.

I do believe that Killian would respect my safe word if I said it, but dealing with just one of him was always a lot back at the club. Now there are three of them to contend with, and my heart pounds even harder in my chest.

I’m shaken out of my thoughts by Killian striding closer to me. He looms over me like he usually does, but there’s definitely something different about it now. He uses strong fingers to tip my chin up, his eyes boring into mine.

“You remember your safe word?” he asks.

I nod, swallowing hard.

“Good. Use it if you need to.”

There’s a feeling of relief that comes from hearing those familiar words. It’s a different location, and there are new players, but this is the same game we’ve always played with each other.

I nod again.

His eyes track over my face, like he’s trying to memorize it, even though I know he probably already has.

“That day we went to scope out the drop location,” he says, his voice low. “You touched my arm. It was the first time you had touched me like that, knowing it was me. Not thinking I was your ‘Phantom.’ I almost couldn’t take it. It felt so fucking good.”

My heart skips a beat at his confession. I remember that day—that moment—vividly. The way he loomed over me, staring down into my eyes… I can’t believe I didn’t realize right then who he was.

Or maybe part of me did know and just wasn’t ready to face it.

He looks at me with that same intensity now, sliding one hand up my face so he can cup my cheek. His thumb strokes over my cheekbone for a second, and I let my eyes flutter closed, soaking up this moment of surprising gentleness.

He’s never done anything quite like this before, but I guess that’s because as much as things are the same… it’s all different too, knowing each other the way we do now.

It lasts for several long seconds, the two of us staring into each other’s eyes with nothing held back for once.

And then I watch the shift as it happens. Any gentleness in Killian’s gaze is shuttered, leaving only pure, molten desire. He steps back, putting some distance between us, the parts of his face that I can see going impassive and blank.

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