Page 141 of Seek Me Darling

She’d never admit it. She’d claw us to ribbons before she’d say it out loud. But it’s there. In the way she let her guard down long enough to sleep without a blade tucked under her pillow.

Now she’s soft. Quiet. Open.

And I can’t stop looking.

The credits roll.

Matteo stretches, mutters something about going to check the perimeter. He gives me a pointed look, but doesn’t say anything.

He knows.

We don’t need to speak it out loud anymore.

When the door clicks shut behind him, I move.

Careful. Slow.

She doesn’t stir when I lift her. Her body curls instinctively into mine, head tucked under my chin, breath warm against my throat. She smells like vanilla and something uniquely her.

She’s heavier than she looks—muscle and tension packed into every inch of her frame. But in my arms, she feels small. Breakable.

I nudge the door to her bedroom open with my foot and bring her inside. The bed’s too big for just her. We made sure of that. Black velvet headboard. Burgundy silk sheets. Fit for a queen. Or a conqueror.

I lay her down carefully, adjusting the pillow beneath her head. Her tank rides up again as she settles. I smooth it down without thought. My thumb catches the edge of a bruise peeking out above her waistband.

Fucking beautiful.

She looks perfect like this.

I stand over her for too long, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Looking down at the girl who has carved her name into my every waking thought.

The girl I would tear my father’s kingdom down for.

The girl I plan to rebuild the world around.

SeannafuckingDarling.

I sit on the edge of the bed, hand trailing up the outside of her thigh—light, slow. I don’t want to wake her. Not yet. Not for this.

I shift over her slowly, lowering myself until my body is half over hers—just enough to cage her. Feel her.

One hand brushes her hip, then the band of her pants.

Then lower.

She’s warm there, soft.

I press against her through the fabric, slow and testing. Before I slip my hand into her pants, until I find the heat I knew would be waiting. She’s wet already. Maybe from a dream. Maybe from the lingering touch of everything we did to her today.

I stroke her slowly, watching her face. Her brows twitch. A soft sound escapes her throat.

Still, she doesn’t wake.

I slide my hand out and drag the pants down her hips, inch by inch, until she’s bare beneath me.

Her legs shift slightly, thighs parting just enough to make room for me.

My cock’s already hard. Has been for the past twenty minutes, if I’m honest. Watching her sleep does something feral to me. Ancient. Territorial.

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