Page 43 of King of Malice
And with each passing day, I’m growing more certain that Dimitri is the man I should ask for help in my search for Cadence, not the man I should be investigating.
By the time I put Anna to bed, I sit on the couch, tired but far more stable than I was this morning.
Whatever I said to the therapist, it’s been the equivalent of throwing up. Like I’ve expelled the poison and now my body can finally recover.
I’m left drained but more balanced.
And I’ve had some time to consider the man who picked up Cadence’s phone. For all I know, that was Cadence’slatest boyfriend. Unlike me, she has no trouble hopping into bed with men. Maybe she didn’t tell him about me, or maybe she did.
Maybe she was like,my former best friend is turning into a stalker. Which, when I think about it, might actually be true.
I just can’t let go of the fact that she might be in trouble. Then again, there is at least some evidence that she chose the trouble. Leaving work like that.
Maybe I’ve had the whole thing wrong…
I hear the ding of the elevator, and I close my laptop, turning to watch Dimitri walk into the room. “You’re home.”
“I’m home,” he rumbles, moving toward me.
He barely breaks stride as he reaches down and lifts me into his arms, before he settles on the couch with me in his lap.
Things have been so muddled, I’ve hardly had time to appreciate his strength, or the lengths he’s gone to make me feel good.
But I do now, pressing my chest to his as I lean in and kiss his mouth. He feels so good, tastes amazing as my fingers thread into his hair.
He kisses me back, long and slow, before he leans away, looking into my eyes. “I was a little worried you’d be upset with me.”
I stare back, my eyes wide with surprise. He’s never insecure. “Why?”
“I made that appointment, you clearly weren’t ready for it.”
I sigh with a shake of my head as I lean back into him. “I feel better for it, and I’m not sure I was ever going to push myself to go.” And that is another point Cadence had been trying to make. I need to push myself out of this very tight comfort zone if I’m going to recover, not just exist. I’m starting to really see it.
He kisses me, his mouth guiding mine in a melding that is so filled with simmering passion that it steals the air from my lungs.
I barely notice when he’s lifting me again, standing with me in his arms. I’ve threaded both my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, my mouth completely open to his.
I don’t pay attention to where we’re going until Dimitri starts easing down so that my feet are on the floor.
We’re in his room, my toes sinking into the thick carpet. I’ve barely gotten my balance when he pulls me flush against his body, pressing us together from hip to chest, without a bit of air in between.
I moan into his mouth, so ready to be wrapped up in him that I’m irritated by the clothes that separate us.
As if he senses my wish, he fists my tank top in his hands and then starts working it up my body. I step back just enough so he can pull the cotton shirt over my head and then I tug at the buttons of his dress shirt.
But I only make it halfway down the row of buttons before he hooks a hand around one of my ass cheeks and pulls my hips back into the cradle of his.
His rock-hard cock pushes right where I need it, and I have to pause in my pursuit of undressing him to tip my head back and arch against him to feel the full length of him against my body.
With his other hand, he unhooks my bra as I finally get the last button undone. I start shoving the shirt off his shoulder, forgetting that it’s tightly cuffed at the wrists.
Which means, the fabric bunches at his hands and doesn’t come off. “Shit,” I mumble. “Apparently I suck at undressing a guy.”
He chuckles, shrugging the shirt back on, and undoing the cuffs so that he can pull the garment off and shuck it to the side. “Your clothes are far easier to remove than mine.” Then he pulls the t-shirt he’s wearing up and over his head, revealing his bare chest.
I can’t help myself, I lift both hands, running them over his muscles, his skin, covered by his chest hair, warm and tempting.
“Take off your pants, milaya,” he rumbles, his nipples pebbling under my touch.
