Page 112 of Crown of Lies

“Ti sei insinuata così tanto sotto la mia pelle che non so come tirarti fuori, mia cara.”

I don’t understand most of what he’s saying, but I recognize the last part—“mia cara.” It’s the nickname he’s been using for me more and more, but this time it sounds different. When he first started calling me that, it was dripping with sarcasm, a biting reminder that we were supposed to be enemies. But now? Now it sounds honest. Real.

I don’t know who moves first. Maybe we both do. But suddenly, our lips meet in a kiss that’s soft and tentative at first.It’s like we’re both afraid to break the spell, to shatter this fragile moment.

The kiss deepens slowly, unhurriedly. There’s no rush, no desperate need to consume each other. Instead, it feels like we’re exploring, savoring every sensation.

I lose myself in the kiss, in the feeling of his lips moving against mine. It’s not about the attraction that’s always simmered between us, not about the heat or the passion. This feels different. Deeper. Like we’re connecting on a level I didn’t even know existed.

My hands move of their own accord, sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. His free hand tightens on my hip, pulling me closer. Our tongues dance together, slow and sensual, as the kiss grows more intense.

The world fades away until there’s nothing but this moment, nothing but Nico and me and this kiss that seems to go on forever. I feel like I’m drowning in sensation, in emotion.

Gradually, what started as slow and tender becomes more passionate, more urgent. Nico’s hand slides from my hip to my lower back, pressing me against him. I arch into him, a soft moan escaping me.

His hands start to wander, tracing patterns on my skin through my shirt. The touch sends shivers down my spine, lighting a fire deep down inside me as his hands move to the hem of my shirt.

The kiss breaks, and we’re both panting, eyes locked. In one fluid motion, he has my shirt off and tossed aside, revealing the bare skin of my chest and the marks etched onto my breast.

His gaze travels over me, pausing at the new addition. “When did Killian do this?”

There isn’t any anger or even a hint of jealousy in his voice, like I’m half-expecting. Just genuine curiosity.

“Couple of days ago. I asked him to do it.”

There’s a glint of something like satisfaction in his expression. He traces his fingers over his own mark, surrounded now by the other two. His touch sends another wave of shivers through me.

“I like it better like this,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving the marks. “Mine, right there with the others. It feels complete.”

I nod, a strange sense of pride swelling within me. “I like it too.”

Something in my admission seems to please him. His hand palms the back of my head, and he pulls me into another kiss. This one is different—hungrier, more insistent.

His lips trail down my neck, sending sparks of pleasure through me. His hands move to my back, pulling me tightly against him. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach, sending a wave of desire washing over me.

I want him right now, right this second, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

My hands move on their own, reaching down to tease him through his pants. I want to feel him, all of him. But as soon as my hand closes around his hard length, he stops me, grabbing my wrist gently but firmly.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he warns, his voice dangerously low.

I smirk, heat already pooling in my core at the challenge. “What makes you think I won’t finish?”

There’s a flash of something hot and primal in his eyes, and he suddenly grabs my hand, pulling me up.

“Stand up,” he orders.

I obey, my heart pounding as he steps back, his eyes raking over me. “Strip.”

The command sends another jolt of wet heat through me, and I don’t hesitate for a second. My jeans and panties hit thefloor, and I kick them to the side, letting them join my already discarded top.

His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of me, naked and wanting. “Get on your knees.”

Again, it isn’t a request, and my body responds instantly. Something about submitting to him right now is giving me such a fucking rush, and I sink to my knees in front of him.

He doesn’t have to tell me what to do this time.

My hands move to his belt, quickly unbuckling it and pulling it free of the loops. I pop the button on his pants and slowly lower the zipper, peeling back the fabric to reveal his obscenely tented boxer briefs.

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