Page 20 of His Deadly Lies

Her eyes are locked on mine. “You’ve read my chart. You’re in a better position to tell me what it says there.”

It’s fucked up, taking advantage like this. Giving in to the desire to touch her no matter the cost. My soul is already damaged. What’s one more?

Especially when she’s looking at me like that.

Keeping eye contact, I reach out, wrapping my hand around her ankle. Lifting her leg up slightly so that the sheet drapes along her inner thigh.

“Does this hurt?”

I press into her calf muscle, gentle, probing. Her throat bobs and my own breath catches in my chest. She’s so fucking soft. I slide my hand upward, placing it underneath her knee and memorizing the sensation of her silky skin.

Perfection.

When she’s not speaking, the fire and spark still show in her eyes. All of it wrapped up in a beautiful package with a mouth built for sin.

What I wouldn't give, in that moment where lucid thought escapes me, to watch her come undone for me. To feel her tight little virgin pussy clenching around me as I fuck my mark into her.

It’s all I can imagine as I take these liberties touching her leg.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she whispers.

Desire pulses through me. I might be a sick bastard, killing for pleasure, but most of the people who have fallen under my knife or gun are killers themselves. Abusers. Rapists.

“What about here?”

I trail my fingers along the top of her thigh, along the edges of her bruise, while I keep hold of her knee with the other hand. How easy to just bring my finger a little farther north and toy with her moist heat.

And why is she allowing me to take these liberties?

I’m a faceless nobody. A nurse or a doctor in scrubs with only my eyes visible, and yet the electricity of whatever connection this is snaps and crackles in the air between us. It’s alive, a beast of its own, even though we might as well be strangers.

“You might need to take a closer inspection,” Mia replies.

Her voice is soft and low, and I almost miss the words but not the intention in her eyes. It’s not the look of a virgin, either.

Not in my experience, and I’ve tasted a few of them in my time.

I open my mouth to retort, half flabbergasted and fighting against every instinct I have urging me to take her, just as the door to the private room opens. I have half a second to recognize the man striding inside, drop his daughter’s leg, and duck my head to keep him from recognizing me.

“A decision has been made,” Edward Balestra announces without hesitation.

My back must be blocking his view of her. Mia hastily drags the sheet over to cover her leg with only a hint of discomfort at the motion.

I adjust the face mask so that my hands are over my eyes, distinctive and blue.

Fuck. Her pretty mouth distracted me, and the thought of her equally pretty (I’m sure) pussy got me taken by surprise. I didn't hear the door.

“I’ll get the discharge papers taken care of for you,” I mutter, keeping low on my way past Edward. A glance down at my watch has me wincing.

I’m running out of time to get back to the mansion and change before meeting Ricardo.

The two goons have moved into the room along with Edward, closing the door behind them, and I take a moment to breathe. My fingertips still tingle where I touched Princess Mia. That’s fucked up, right?

Why had I never noticed her in this way before?

Because she’s never acted like this in front of me, not once during our past meetings.

The low murmur of voices raised in a heated debate filters through the door, and after half a second of internal back and forth, I press close and hover, listen.

---