Page 82 of Scarlet Mark
My lips curled. “Well, you once told me talking is foreplay, so consider me always engaged when you speak.”
He chuckled and pulled me into his lap to nuzzle my nose with his own, the action one that bespoke of a comfort new to both of us. Killian confided in me that he didn’t usually date, a consequence of his job. But things between us were different.
I knew everything about him even though I shouldn’t. Just as he understood me in a way no one else ever had.
It placed us in this stasis of comfort where we just existed, never questioning the intention or future, just embracing the moment and taking it one day at a time. I liked it here. Felt happy here. Wanted to remain here.
But I meant what I said—I couldn’t just stand by and allow more innocent lives to be corrupted by Geoff and Clarissa Rose. Not when I finally had the means to take them down.
I owed it to those who would come after me, to end this.
Hell, I owed it to myself to seek vengeance.
And I would, when the time was right. Which, instinct told me, was now.
I could only reside in my utopia bubble with Killian for so long. Eventually, we had to leave, to move on, to face the monsters who haunted my past. And finish them once and for all.
Killian held my gaze, an unspoken agreement passing between us. He sighed, nodding. “Two plans. We only proceed if we both agree you’re ready.”
I studied him, knowing he would never hold me back for his own personal gain. He would let me fly when he believed it was time because Killian didn’t believe in grounding others. He helped them grow, to survive on their own.
Killian Bedivere claimed not to be a hero. However, I saw the truth. I sawhim, my lethal knight who emboldened and enlightened me. The one who instructed me on how to use my inner spirit effectively and efficiently, to fight. The assassin who trusted me enough with his own secrets to provide me with a glimpse into his dangerous world, and protect me from it at the same time.
This man may claim not to be a good guy, and maybe he wasn’t by traditional standards, but he was by my definition. And I adored him all the more for it.
“We only proceed if we both agree I’m ready,” I agreed, parroting his words back at him. Killian had done everything in his power to strengthen me over the last two months. He wouldn’t stop now by smothering my growth. I trusted his opinion, just as he trusted mine.
He grabbed my hips. “Then I suggest we go outside and spar on the beach.”
“You just want to get me naked again.” It happened every time we fought. His skills far surpassed mine, though he claimed I had a natural speed that made him work for it. Still, he ended up on top of me every damn time. And I always lost my clothes in the process.
“Of course.” He nibbled my jaw. “It’s my sole motivation for teaching you to fight, Amara. You know how I love putting my hands on you.”
“Uh-huh.” I put my hands on his chest. “Except it’s usually your knives doing all the touching.”
“To remove the clothes in the way of my hands,” he explained, grinning.
I raised a brow. “Then explain the scratch marks on my breasts.”
“A moment of excitement.”
“And my inner thighs?” Which tingled just at the thought of the tiny nicks he’d left there last night before going down on me for well over an hour.
“Teasing,” he murmured, not at all apologetic. Not that he needed to be. We both knew I enjoyed it.
Still… “One of these days, I’ll use a blade on you and see how you like it.”
“Oh, Amara.” He threaded his fingers through my hair, tightening his hold and pressing his lips to mine. “That would require you to best me.”
“I will,” I promised against his mouth.
“Maybe,” he whispered, kissing me softly. “Now stop distracting me. We have work to do outside.”
“Yes, sir,” I teased, mostly because I knew he enjoyed it. And also because the nickname seemed to fit him.
Sir Bedivere.
My dark knight.
