Page 32 of Unholy Nights

I brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger on her cheek. "You," I say simply, because it's the truth. "Always you."

She bites her lip, a blush staining her cheeks. "I don't understand how you do that," she murmurs. "How you make me feel like the center of the universe just by looking at me."

"Because you are," I tell her, letting a rare smile tug at my lips. "You're the sun, and everything else orbits around you, including me.Especiallyme."

"Cohen—" she starts, but I cut her off with another kiss, this one soft and sweet and full of promise that ends far too soon.

"Tell me something," I say, my forehead resting against hers as we both attempt to catch our breath. "What do you want? Not what your mother wants for you, not what society expects. What doyouwant?"

She pulls back and blinks up at me, clearly caught off guard by the question. "I... I don't know," she admits after a moment, her brow furrowing. "No one's ever asked me that before."

The admission sends a spike of anger through me—anger at Madeline, at the world that's tried to crush Emerald's spirit. But I push it down, focusing instead on the vulnerable girl in front of me.

"It's okay not to know," I tell her, my thumb tracing circles on her wrist. "But I want you to start thinking about it. Because you deserve to have dreams, Emerald. You deserve to want things for yourself."

She's quiet for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the twinkling lights below us. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft I have to lean in to hear her. "I think... I think I want to be free," she whispers, like she's confessing some terrible secret. "To make my own choices. To not be afraid all the time."

My heart clenches at her words, a mixture of triumph and rage swirling in my chest. Triumph, because her desire for freedom plays perfectly into my plans. Rage, because she should never have been caged in the first place. But that's going to change. Soon, Emerald will have everything she could ever dream of—and more. Because she'll have me.

I brush my lips against hers, a silent promise of what's to come and because I can. "You can have that," I tell her, cupping her face in my hands and forcing her to meet my gaze. "All of it and more. I'll give you the world, Emerald. I'll tear down every wall, break every chain that's holding you back. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?"

She stares at me, her eyes wide and searching, like she's trying to see into my very soul. For a moment, I wonder if she can—if she can see the darkness that lurks there, the possessive, obsessive love for her that’s only dug deeper into my soul since the first time I saw her.

But then she nods, slowly at first, then more firmly. "Yes," she whispers. "I trust you, Cohen."

I break the kiss with a growl, my chest heaving as I try to regain control. "We should go," I tell her, my voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Your mother will be wondering where we are."

Emerald blinks up at me, her lips swollen and shiny, her eyes hazy with lust. The sight nearly undoes me, and it's all I can do to stop myself from pinning her to the hood of the car right here on this snowy hilltop and burying myself inside her until she screams my name to the stars.

Emerald nods, but she doesn't move away. "Do we have to?" she asks, a hint of rebellion in her voice that makes me grin.

"For now," I tell her, pressing a softer kiss to her forehead. "But soon, little phoenix. Soon we won't have to go back at all."

The tasteof darkness lingers on my lips, sweet and dangerous, like chocolate-covered poison.

I can't stop touching them, my fingers tracing where Cohen's mouth claimed mine as we drive back through the snow-covered streets of Emerald Hills.

His kiss was nothing like I've read in books or seen in the movies I've stolen in my bedroom.

My first kiss. Given to my stepfather on the hood of his Aston Martin while snowflakes melted in my hair.

The thought should horrify me. Should make me feel sick with guilt or shame or... something. Instead, I'm just hungry.

Hungry for more of the way he held me. For more of his taste—chocolate and something dark, something forbidden. Something that belongs to the shadows. Something that belongs to him.

I sneak glances at him as he drives, unable to look away for long. The streetlights paint shadows across his sharp features, and my heart does this weird stuttering thing every time I catch him watching me from the corner of his eye. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and there's tension radiating off him in waves that make the air feel thick enough to drown in.

"Stop biting your lip," he growls softly, his eyes never leaving the road as his hand slides over to grip my thigh. The warmth of his touch burns through my jeans, and I can't hold back a shiver.. "Unless you want me to pull over and finish what we started."

The threat—promise?—in his voice sends a rush of heat through me, settling between my thighs. I press them together, trying to ease the sudden ache there. My heart races as I imagine what he might do if he pulled over. What he might do to me.

What's happening to me?

But then his hand relaxes, and he gives me a look that's half amusement, half warning. "Soon, little phoenix. Soon, I'll show you everything."

The car slows to a halt in front of the Delacroix mansion, and Cohen's hand slips from my leg.

Panic starts clawing at my chest as reality crashes back. My mother. Oh god, what will she say? What time is it? Have we been gone too long?

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