Page 20 of A Kiss of Deception

She shakes her head, visibly trying to regain her composure. "We should... discuss the plan."

"Of course." I pat the bed beside me. "Have a seat. We've got a murder to plot."

Meetha hesitates, her eyes darting between my face and the empty space next to me. The conflict is written all over her face – desire warring with caution.

"I can't," she begins.

"Can't what?" I ask.

"Focus." She touches the thin sheet on the bed. Until that moment, I hadn't realized I'd been utilizing it as a shield.

"Well," I begin. "Let's eliminate the distractions so we can focus on the plan."

I toss the sheet aside, baring myself completely. Meetha's eyes widen, her breath catching. The scent of her arousal hits me like a tidal wave.

"Come here," I growl, my eyes never leaving hers.

Meetha hesitates, her gaze flickering between my face and my exposed body. I can see the conflict in her eyes, desire warring with caution.

"I..." she starts, her voice barely above a whisper. "We should be focusing on the plan."

I lean forward slightly, my voice low and enticing. "And we will. But tell me, Meetha, have you ever allowed yourself to truly feel? To give in to what you want?"

She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "What I want doesn't matter. It never has."

"It matters to me," I say, my words heavy with promise. "What do you want, Meetha?"

Her eyes meet mine, a spark of defiance igniting in their depths. "I want... I want to feel powerful. To take what I desire without fear or shame."

A slow, predatory smile spreads across my face. "Then take it. Show me the fire I know burns within you."

Meetha takes a step forward, then another, her movements hesitant but determined. "And what about you, Milkor? What do you want?"

I reach out, my fingers brushing against her arm, feeling her shiver at my touch. "I want to unlock every secret you've kepthidden. To watch you come undone and put you back together again."

Her breath catches, her pupils dilating with arousal. "And the consequences? What if this changes everything?"

"Maybe it should," I murmur, drawing her closer. "Are you afraid of change, my fiery one?"

Meetha's lips part, her voice husky with need. "No. I'm afraid of wanting something so much it consumes me."

I trail my fingers up her arm, along her collarbone, feeling her pulse race beneath my touch. "Then let it consume you. Let me consume you."

For a heartbeat, she stands on the precipice, teetering between restraint and abandon. Then, with a soft gasp that sounds like surrender, she surges forward.

Our lips crash together, hungry and desperate. I pull her onto the bed, relishing the feel of her soft curves against my body.

Her dress is an irritating barrier. I tear it away, revealing smooth, sun-kissed skin. My hands roam, exploring every inch of her. She moans into my mouth, arching against me.

"Milkor," she gasps. "Please..."

I can sense the desperation in her voice, the unspoken plea that matches the ache in my own body. Her hands claw at my shoulders, her need a living force between us. I trail kisses down the column of her throat, savoring the salt of her skin, the way her pulse flutters beneath my lips like a trapped butterfly.

"Patience, my fiery Meetha," I murmur against her flesh, my voice a low rumble that vibrates through her.

She whimpers as I continue my slow descent, my tongue tracing the valley between her breasts. Her nipples are hard peaks, begging for attention, and I oblige, circling one with my tongue before drawing it into my mouth. Her back arches off the bed, a silent plea for more.

I indulge myself, lavishing each breast with equal attention, until she's writhing beneath me, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. But I'm not done with her yet. There are still so many places on her body that I want to taste, to claim as my own.

---