Page 55 of Seduced

He chuckled against her lips.

“The name, as I have told you, is Alexei,” he said. “And as for me, I want to die.”

He lowered his head and kissed her again.

His wish came true: he did die.

And oh, what a glorious heaven he reached.

He who had always been meant for hell, was now in paradise.

It was hours or days or years later when they finally stopped.

They did not so much stop as melt into each other and then on the floor. And then Alexei could not endure it anymore, and almost had to excuse himself and leave the room. But he looked down at Poppy’s head, her hair disheveled by him tangling his fingers in them, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming short, her lips swollen, dripping with his kisses, and his heart stopped.

Everything stopped.

He stopped what he was doing and let her go carefully, as if she were made of porcelain.

Stop now, he commanded himself, trying to get his wild breathing under control.

You will not ruin her.

You will not ruin the one good, clean thing that you have ever touched.

It was a battle against his own body. He wanted to grab her and not let her go until the hunger of an entire lifetime was sated. But he would conquer his own want, his own need. He had to.

His entire body shook and he stood abruptly to walk to the fireplace, leaving her there, curled on the floor.

His knuckles were white, his lips tasted of blood, and he turned around to find her leaning against his bed, her head tilted like a wilted flower, half-asleep. He had to clasp his hands tightly together so as not to reach out and lift her in his arms right then and there.

“This is unendurable!” The words were wrenched out of him, and the pain of uttering them tore his throat apart.

He stood there for a moment or two, gazing down at the still, slight form of the girl. And then he turned purposefully around, meaning to leave the room, the club, and even London, if that would stop him from ruining her.

“Don’t go,” a voice murmured from the floor.

He turned around so fast his hair whipped against his cheek.

“Are you all right?” He strode to her and knelt next to her on the carpet. Careful not to touch her. Her lips were still swollen and so red, as if tainted from eating cherries.

“I am not,” she replied, starting to unfold her body from its crouch. He reached out an arm to help her stand, because the movement looked painful, but she refused it. His heart stopped. “I lost myself in you. I am not all right.”

“Nor I,” he said.

“This seduction business…it worked then?”

He ducked his head, hiding a rueful smile.

‘It worked then?’

“Do you even have to ask?” he murmured. “And I promise you, I didnotseduce you.”

“Well, neither did I.”

“I beg to differ,” Alexei said, pursing his lips—mostly to avoid kissing her again.

Had anyone ever looked more kissable than she did right now, with her crumpled dress, stiff movements, bright-red cheeks and messy bangs?

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