Page 71 of Serpent King's Revenge

I turned to Abby then, really saw her for the first time since the chaos had settled. Her face was pale, almost ghostly, and her lips had this blue tint that set off all sorts of alarms in my head. She was cold, too cold. I reached over and took her hand, feeling the chill of her skin against mine.

"Yeah," I agreed with Knuckles, giving Abby's hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's catch up more after we've taken care of ourselves."

Abby nodded, a small smile on her face that told me she was grateful for the escape from the spotlight. Sometimes I forgot how much she hated being the center of attention. She preferred moving in shadows, along the sidelines.

I wanted to keep her safe where she was comfortable.

And more than that…fuck.

I needed to make love to her again, to warm her up.

To show her how much she meant to me, and to keep the cold at bay.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Abby

We were finally fed, dry…and alone.

And whereas I thought Nathan would be somber and serious, he was making me giggle like I was in fucking high school.

Knuckles had led us to a private room in the warehouse, with at least a modicum of privacy and a bed big enough for the two of us. The rainy afternoon light streamed in through a solitary window as we shut and locked the door behind us.

And then Nathan was beside me, his hands gripping my waist as he pulled me into a kiss.

We’d had sex many, many times. Ever since I’d met him, I hadn’t felt like I could keep my hands off him. When we’d planned the prison break, I fully believed that I would be desperate to have him, that it would be heated, serious, intense…but something had changed.

He was soft with me, gentle. It reminded me of how he’d treated me in those moments when he thought he hurt me at his house in South Beach, or after my Serpents initiation. There was care here, love.

Nathan's gaze held mine, and I saw something shift in those dark eyes. The ruthless Fangs Zhou, feared by many, was nowhere to be found. Instead, I was faced with a man whose tenderness seemed as real and raw as the crash of waves against rocks far below us.

"Abby," he said, voice low, "I…"

But words were unnecessary. The way he looked at me spoke volumes, revealing layers of vulnerability that few ever witnessed.

It made me ache for him.

"Show me," I urged, stepping closer, feeling the heat radiate from his body through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. His hands, those same hands that dealt in violence and death, now trembled slightly as they reached for me.

“I love you,” he said. “And I’m going to show you.”

He pinned me against the wall with a kiss that felt like it was trying to erase all the danger and darkness of our worlds. Somehow, in each other's embrace, none of that mattered. We clung to each other as if we could somehow fuse together and become an impenetrable force.

Nathan’s hands moved with purpose, sliding down my sweats with reverence. They fell to the floor with a whisper, leaving me exposed under his intense gaze. His fingers hooked under the hem of my top, lifting it over my head with a care that made my heart swell.

His lips followed the path he undressed, kissing down the hollow of my neck and then lower, over the rise of my breasts. Each touch was a silent promise, every kiss a mark of devotion. Nathan Zhou, the man who could command fear with just a look, now bowed to worship at the altar of my body.

"Abby," he breathed against my skin, tracing the lines of my form with an unexpected delicacy. It was like he was tracing the constellations in the night sky, mapping out a universe where only we existed.

His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was learning me anew. The man known for his violent reputation handled me with a gentleness that would have seemed impossible to anyone who knew him, it almost felt impossible to me.

Here, in the quiet of an early November rain, Nathan worshipped my body with a devotion that could only spring from genuine love.

He caressed my skin, tracing the curve of my waist and the dip of my hips with hands that had dealt in terror but now spoke only of tenderness. Each brush of his fingertips ignited my senses, sending ripples of heat through my veins. His dark eyes, usually so hard and impenetrable, watched me with a softness that I found almost overwhelming.

"Abby," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "You undo me."

I threaded my fingers in his hair as he looked up into my eyes.

Nathan's hands paused at the elastic edge of my panties, his eyes asking a silent question that set my blood aflame.

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