Page 137 of Hidden Empire

“How are you so warm?” I mumble, tugging the fabric closer.

“Being pissed off does that,” the Lord answers for him. “So, what’ll it be? A fight before we send her off? A longer suspension? What will allow you to leave this table satisfied, Dmitri?”

I hold my breath for his answer.

“Send her off,” he replies, voice as hard as stone. “I don’t need you to punish her further, I’ll take care of it myself.”

Oh shit, is he going to have someone kill her outside of campus?

I don’t know whether I should be appalled that he really wants her dead for almost hurting me or insanely turned on.

When I squeeze my legs together, I realize it doesn’t matter how I should feel. I do feel it already. Being wet and achey between my thighs, I wonder if my body temperature will start to increase. That’d be nice.

The Lord claps his hands together, pleased with his answer. “By all means, handle your business within the rules as you see fit, I always do prefer it that way. As a gesture of good will, we’ll adjust her suspension to a lifetime ban.”

“Short ban,” Ivan mutters under his breath.

“Yes, a short ban indeed.” The Lord chuckles, having caught it. “Less paperwork for me, and a solid revenge plot for you all. Marvelous.”

Everything ends pretty quickly after that, with the three of us leaving first.

When we get back to Dmitri’s room, I pull off Ivan’s coat and my sweater too. My man makes a move to speak, but I shut him up with my mouth before he can. I went from freezing to burning up with desire in the span of a few minutes. Being turned on by the prospect of someone killing for me is probably not a trait to be proud of, but I’m too horny to bother caring.

I pull at the seams of his shirt, ripping a button off in the process.

“Fuck me,” I demand, reaching for his belt.

“Slow down, baby,” he encourages, kissing me more passionately than hurried. “We’ve got hours, there’s no rush.”

“I want you now,” I whine.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “Krasotka, your face is hot.”

“Your face is hot, too,” I return, giggling.

He shakes his head, and our kisses end. “Yes, you’re stunning, but no, I mean, your face is blisteringly hot right now. Do you feel okay?”

I frown, lifting the back of my hands to my cheeks. Heat practically singes me.

“Weird,” I comment, pressing my hands there harder.

The skin gets damp with incoming sweat, and my stomach rolls.

Covering my mouth, I push past Dmitri and rush into his bathroom, barely making it to his toilet before I vomit. The bile burns, and I cringe, a swell of discomfort washing over every inch of me.

My stomach recoils, and I cough up the excess in my throat, only to feel my hair being pulled back from my face.

“D-don’t,” I rasp, mortified. “Go away.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Dmitri returns, scooping every stray hair away and beginning to rub my back. “I’m staying right here.”

My eyes prick with painful tears, watering while I blink. I don’t think I’m going to throw up a second time, but I refuse to move, just in case.

“I don’t want you to see me all gross,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

“You’re not gross,” he states firmly, continuing to rub my back. “Do you feel better or is there more?”

I wince, but shut the lid, flushing the toilet without answering him and climbing to my feet. Dmitri doesn’t leave me for a second as I fish out a spare toothbrush and start scrubbing away the acidic taste in my mouth. I gargle mouthwash twice and look in the mirror when I’m done, only to find my face paler than ever.

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