Page 25 of Beautiful Vengeance

The conviction and steely edge to her words sent a streak of foreboding through him. He believed her. Without a doubt, she would find a way to make it happen. Though it likely wouldn’t make her feel much better.

She searched his eyes a moment. “Does that change the way you see me?”

“No.” He understood her need to kill the man who had terrorized her, left her scarred inside and out. But if she thought taking Rahman’s life would make everything okay, she was in for a huge disappointment.

Lifting a hand, she grazed her fingertips over the beard on the right side of his jaw. Marcus stilled as sensation sparked across his nerve endings, a surge of heat rushing through him. With superhuman effort he kept his hands on her back, instead of plunging them into her hair to bring his mouth down on hers.

He stayed perfectly still while his heart tried to pound out of his chest, the light brush of her fingers trailing over his chin to the other, scarred side of his face, and finally to the corner of his mouth.

His fingers flexed against her back as need slammed into him. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman this badly, but he wanted to mean something more than comfort to her, and he was a selfish bastard for wanting her when she’d been through so much.

She drew the tip of her index finger across his lower lip, her expression absorbed as she studied it. He stared at her mouth, just inches away, his muscles rigid with the need to kiss her, taste her.

Catching her wrist, he held her gently and pressed a slow, tender kiss to the pad of her finger. He glanced up in time to see her pupils dilate, those gorgeous lips part as she leaned forward a fraction.

It was like trying to fight gravity. He was falling toward her and there was no stopping it, no matter if he shouldn’t touch her, no matter that he wasn’t worthy.

Biting back a groan, he surrendered to the inexorable pull between them and angled his head to cover her mouth with his.

Kiyomi slid her hands into his hair and returned the kiss. He held her still, forcing her to take it slow as he learned the shape and feel of her lips. Soft, pliant, he sank into them, exploring first the top and then the bottom as he caressed and nibbled. It was tender. Reverent.

He wanted to give, not take. Give her as much or as little of him as she wanted. She’d been forced to do things that would have broken most people. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to know that he held complete control over himself and wouldn’t rush her.

Her tiny moan went straight to his groin, making him rock hard in his jeans beneath the weight of her backside.

Kiyomi’s fingers dug harder into his scalp, her mouth opening in invitation beneath his. Needing more, he cradled her face in his hands and touched his tongue to her lower lip before gently easing it along the inner seam.

She made a soft sound and touched her tongue to his, the motion so erotic it made the blood pound in his ears. He caressed her softly, the restraint intensifying the heat pulsing through him. Kiyomi wiggled closer, her rear shifting against his erect cock and her breasts flattening to his chest.

Marcus couldn’t hold back the rough groan at the back of his throat. She felt so bloody perfect, better than anything he’d imagined. He wanted to touch and taste her all over, strip off everything she wore so he could drown her in the pleasure she deserved, the best antidote he could think of to erase the pain and terror she’d suffered.

Something cold and wet poked into the side of his face.

Startled, Marcus drew back to find Karas’s face inches from their own. She stared into his eyes, ears perked, tail wagging in a hesitant swish.

Kiyomi laughed as she slid off his lap. “Is she jealous?”

Marcus scowled at his dog and gently swept her aside with one arm. “Away wi’ ye, green-eyed monster.”

Instead of obeying, Karas plopped her back end down on the rug and stared at him with accusing eyes.

Kiyomi laughed again, the bright sound making him smile. “I see I’ve got a rival.”

“No.” No one could ever rival Kiyomi. He ruffled the top of Karas’s head and pointed at her bed by the fire. “Bed. Now.”

Karas almost glared back at him, then sulkily turned and limped over to her bed, flopping down with a theatrical sigh and gazing up at him with wounded eyes.

“She should be on stage,” Kiyomi said.

Marcus grinned. “Aye. Drama queen.” Damn, he loved her though. Karas was as loyal as they came, and she’d got him through some dark times with her unconditional acceptance and love.

He faced Kiyomi, sorry she’d moved away from him. “Sorry about that,” he muttered.

“It’s okay.” Her lips curved, a soft look in her eyes. “Thank you.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“My first real kiss.” She rose before he could say anything, notebook in hand, and walked out of the room.

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