Page 92 of Nocturne

Twenty-Five

Ara

I frown.

Did I hear him right? Because it sounded like he told me to kiss him. That did not sound right.

“What?” I reply, dumbfounded.

“Kiss. Me.” He enunciates the two words.

I hear Ivy take in a sharp gasp, and the stranger’s disbelieving chuckle reaches my ears. But they do nothing to the surprise and affront that I feel. How dare he! How frigging dare he try and exploit my situation in a way that is so…so….wrong!

“No.” I declare.

The doors to the container open a second later with a mighty thud that has me jumping in fear and letting out a short shriek. Ivy tries to become one with the metal walls while both Zagan and his stranger seem unfazed. Zagan doesn’t even spare the goons a glance as they start to advance towards us.

He says nothing but he simply starts to walk away.

I turn to see all those men regard Zagan and the git for a minute, thinking about going against them. Despite all the goon's large bodies, Zagan looks more formidable against them. With the company of the stranger, both of them look untouchable.

When neither of these men show any traces of helping us, albeit hesitantly, the goons start to advance. Ivy lets out a tiny cry of fear, and the gravity of the situation forces me to accept my fate.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, trying to bring in the composure of not letting go of the courage. It is just a lousy kiss, anyway. It isn’t like I hadn’t kissed anyone before.

When I open my eyes again, I turn to Zagan, wishing he would be a bad kisser. Because even the slightest brush of his lips against my skin turned me into a mess for days, leaving my thoughts scattered and useless. I can only imagine what a real kiss would do to me.

I have no idea what possessed him to demand something this absurd, but I know it’s not for any noble reason. For him, it could be just another source of entertainment, or I could be yet another woman he’s kissed. Or maybe it’s tied to whatever twisted reason he’s become my part-time stalker.

But I know it won’t mean the same to him as it does to me. I can already feel the weeks of agonising thoughts ahead, thoughts that will make me stupid and useless. But with one glance at the thugs, who are growing more confident with each step, I make my decision.

I am not going to give up on life now after going through all that suffering. Cas and Iyra will not be stranded!

I take a wobbly step towards Zagan, stopping when his frustratingly intoxicating scent envelops me as I step into his personal space. It might as well be the peak of a mountain because the air around here is thick and scarce, forcing my lungs to heave in large gulps of air.

Up this close, I have to crane my neck to look at his eyes when he turns, which shine with an indecipherable expression while he grits his teeth as if he is stopping himself from doing something.

What?

A muscle in his jaw twitches, and his Adam's apple bobs with a quick gulp as he looks down at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s affected by me, too.

“Just don’t kill them.” I urge after sparing the men a last glance.

Even if they are out to kill us, it isn’t on their own accord. They are here because someone had ordered them to, and not following their order will have them killed. This could be a naive and soft move which could come back to bite my arse, but I cannot handle any more blood on my hands.

When I look back at Zagan, he dips his chin. It is so quick and short that I would’ve missed it if I blinked. But I do see it and take in a large inhale before I stand on my tiptoes.

I can still only reach his chin as he stands tall, imposing in his height. I grip the lapels of his suit and pull him down, and I can only move him because he allows it. His eyes, dark and brooding, hold me captive, and the bewitching scars that have mesmerised me since the start draw me in even further. I seal my fate by closing my eyes and pressing my lips to his.

Sparks of electricity shoot down my spine, making me gasp in surprise at the sensation—something I’d only ever read about in books. One second. Just one second. That’s all I’m given before large hands cover me, and Zagan takes control of the kiss. One hand grips the nape of my neck, the other circling the base of my waist, pulling me closer. He plunges into my mouth like a man starving, his lips soft, a stark contrast to the hardness of his bodypressing into me, held firm by his steel grip. His tongue clashes with mine, sucking, exploring, claiming every inch of my mouth.

I feel my feet leave the floor as he turns, nipping at my bottom lip. Teeth clash together, heedless of the world around us, as we sink deeper. I push myself impossibly closer, consumed by the chaotic storm of emotions trying to break free within me. A shiver runs through me when his teeth graze my lip, and he soothes the sting with his warm tongue.

I never pegged Zagan, a man so indifferent, to kiss me like this—as if he were trying to pull the life out of me. My heart pounds erratically, refusing to return to its usual pace, and the goosebumps never fade. My cheeks flush with heat, a flutter of longing pooling down south, craving the roughness of his hands, the steel of his touch.

I can feel the slickness coating my thighs, and a soft moan escapes my lips when I feel the evidence of his desire pressing into my lower stomach. A shiver wracks my body despite his warmth when he growls, low and animalistic, pulling me even closer.

The kiss stretches on, timeless, as though it’s both an eternity and a moment. Lost in the bliss, in the electric sparks dancing through my body, I don't even realise how badly I need air until my lungs scream for it. Reluctantly, I pull away, but Zagan isn’t ready to let go. He nips at my bottom lip one last time, soothing it with his tongue before I can break free.

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