Page 143 of Decadence

The sun broke over the horizon, momentarily blinding them with its brilliance. Ikriss gasped and cursed in pain, quickly pulling a dark transparent eyeshield over his face.

“It’s morning…” she said softly, reverently, filled with a sense of awe.

“Indeed,” Ikriss said dryly as the sun-flash disappeared. They broke through the stratosphere, heading for the glittering darkness beyond.

Suddenly, they were drifting through the silent infinity of space.

Just her.

And him.

Alone.

Together.

Ikriss whispered a command. He removed the eyeshield. The tendrils of the dark, throne-like chair swiftly disengaged from his hands, leaving him free to rise to his feet.

And so he did, moving across until he was standing just in front of her.

She swore his horns had grown just a little bit more.

Was his hair a little longer than before, too? Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, but she almost thought his hair and horns were growing longer right before her very eyes.

He looked different somehow… the change was subtle, but he was a little leaner than before. The hollows in his cheeks were more pronounced, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline.

A quiver of anticipation coursed through her.

He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

She tried to lean forward, but the chair’s restraints were still in place, crisscrossing her chest.

They were in deep space now, with nothing but the stars illuminating Ikriss’s silver features.

He leaned in and placed his fingers under her chin, tipping her head slightly, capturing her with his gaze.

Her heart pounded like a war drum.

She forgot to breathe.

Desire surged through her, spilling heat between her thighs.

Her need became a powerful throbbing ache as she became lost in his golden gaze. She swore his eyes had some sort of strange hypnotic power, pulling her into a trance, rendering her utterly helpless against him.

He kissed her, again.

This kiss was different to the last. It was slower, deeper, filled with hunger and possessiveness, all molten tongue and sharp fangs; all him.

He pulled away, leaving her breathless and completely undone.

“Do you trust me, Sienna?”

The question took her by surprise. There was a dark undercurrent to his voice that she didn’t really understand; it was almost a kind of desperation, as if he needed this.

“You know I won’t ever lie to you,” she said softly.

Ikriss nodded solemnly.

“I trust you,” she whispered. “I don’t care what they say about you, or what you’ve done in the past. I know you.”

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