Page 10 of My Bloody Valentine

I leave her there, still flustered, trying to convince herself this is just research. But we both know better. The electricity between us is unrelated to professional curiosity.

In my boutique, I’ll arrange the perfect selection—dark chocolate ganache that melts on the tongue, pralines that crack between teeth, truffles dusted with gold—each piece designed to seduce her deeper into my world.

No blood tonight. That comes later. For now, I want to watch her struggle against this attraction. Want to see her try to maintain that professional distance even as she surrenders to what I offer.

Eight o’clock can’t come soon enough.

5

MAYA

The cab pulls away, leaving me alone on the moonlit sidewalk outside Vale’s Chocolate Boutique. My silk dress whispers against my thighs as I shift my weight, second-guessing my decision to come here. The boutique’s windows glow warmly, showcasing elaborate chocolate displays that beckon me inside.

My stomach twists with nerves as I recall the lingering taste of Adrian’s creation from the event—that haunting emptiness followed by an explosion of sensation. Realizing what he’d added to create such an intimate experience should revolt me. Instead, heat blooms across my skin.

I start to feel… excited. I want to be here and give in to whatever unknowns await me.

I smooth my hands down my purple dress, its deep V-neckline suddenly feeling too bold and revealing. The glass door reflects my image: loose dark curls, red lips, and wide eyes. I look exactly like what I am—prey walking willingly into a predator’s lair.

“You came.” Adrian’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He stands in the doorway, sleeve cuffs rolled up to expose strong,inked forearms dusted with cocoa powder. His white chef’s coat is immaculate despite the evidence of his work.

“I shouldn’t be here.” It was meant to set the tone for tonight, to announce that I have some boundaries. But my voice betrays me, weaker than I’ve ever heard.

“But you are.” A calculated smile plays across his lips.

God, he’s handsome. I step inside, the door clicking shut behind me with finality. Adrian’s presence fills the intimate space, making the boutique feel smaller than it is. As he moves closer, the display cases cast amber shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“I’ve prepared something special.” His fingers clasp my elbow, guiding me toward the back room. Every touch sparks a current beneath my skin.

The private tasting room is dimly lit. Two chairs are positioned close together at a small table. A single chocolate sits on a silver plate between them.

“You’ll need this.” Adrian holds up a black silk blindfold. Each heartbeat grows more frantic as he steps behind me. I don’t question him as the silk slides over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. His fingers graze my temples as he completes the intricate tie, lingering longer than necessary in my hair.

“Open.” His command makes me shiver. Something smooth touches my lips—the chocolate, cradled between his fingers, in offering. I part them, letting him place it on my tongue.

His hand cups my jaw, thumb stroking along my cheek. “Don’t bite. Let it melt.”

I struggle to focus on the chocolate dissolving in my mouth when all I can think about is his touch, his proximity. Her curiosity shines in her eyes. He hasn’t moved away, and waves of sensual heat roll off him.

“What do you taste?” His voice drops lower, almost a purr.

I shiver. “I—I can’t...”

“Can’t what?” His fingers skim my bottom lip.

“Can’t think when you’re touching me like that.”

A soft chuckle. “Then don’t think.” His free hand roams around my waist, drawing me to my feet. “Feel.”

My hands find his chest, solid beneath crisp cotton. My stolen sight sharpens every touch—the brush of his breath across my lips and his fingers’ strength as they trail up my spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, mouth hovering near mine.

I curl my fingers into his shirt. “No.”

The feather-light touch of his mouth brushing my cheek sends sparks dancing across my skin. My breath catches as his mouth traces a path to my ear, never quite making full contact.

“Your pulse is racing,” Adrian murmurs, his fingers pressed against my throat. “Are you afraid?”

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