Page 72 of Vampire Soldier

Perry’s answer is a grunt laced with mild exasperation. “Only briefly. He’s been distracted today. Something’s bugging him. Might be show stress, might be Nightshade stuff… hard to tell when it comes to him.”

I shoot a considering look in Malachi’s direction. He was fine as we drove in earlier, so something must have happened. Could it be something to do with Kit? Unease drips down the back of my neck, like a cold drop of rain that sneaks past your collar. Thanking Perry, I decide to check in with him even as I tell myself that it probably has nothing to do with Kit.

Malachi’s office is dim when I enter—not dark necessarily, but like he’d forgotten that normal humans need more light to see. The only light comes from the desk lamp. In its warm pool of illumination are scattered sheets of thick white paper. Dossiers, maybe? At least four open folders. Maps and large sections of text and details I can’t parse from this angle. He’s standing behind the desk, sleeves rolled, jacket missing, the collars of his dress shirt slightly askew. His eyes flick up—but not fast, which tells me he probably heard me before I even started climbing the stairs.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask softly, careful.

“No.” He doesn’t offer more right away, just closes the topmost folder and extends one hand toward me in a quiet invitation.

I cross the room without hesitation, slipping beside him. The moment I’m close enough, his arm wraps around my waist, drawing me to his side. Holding me like I’m the thing keeping him grounded.

“Something to do with the restaurant?” I murmur.

He hums but shakes his head. He flips a folder closed. “Ambrose needs me to look over some things. Border updates. Rapture distribution numbers. Nothing dire, just volume.”

I glance down at the papers and scrunch my face. “That sounds like a whole lot of fun.”

He huffs out a silent laugh. “It’s a pain in the ass is what it is.” His hand at my waist tightens slightly, and he leans in, pressing his mouth to the top of my head. “You make it better just by being here.”

I slide my hand across the desk, over a folded corner of one map, then look up at him.

“Then maybe you should take a break from it, since you said it’s not urgent,” I say, tapping one of the closed folders.

His gaze turns sharper, but there’s warmth beneath it. He guides me gently toward the leather chair behind his desk and sinks into it, pulling me down onto his lap with practiced ease.

I laugh and shake my head. “This wasn’t what I meant!”

“No?” He’s smirking and it goes right between my legs. I shouldn’t find his cocky arrogance so hot, but I really, really do. “I think you’re exactly what I need right now.”

His hand grips the back of my neck and I don’t bother resisting because why would I? His hungry, hot mouth crashing onto mine with a desperation that cracks open something endless in my chest. My gasp is swallowed into his tongue, into the heat of him, lips crashing, dragging. There’s no hesitation this time. No carefully measured distance. His hands are in my hair, at the curve of my jaw, down the length of my back.

“Anyone could walk in,” I whisper, threading my fingers into his hair, heart pounding with the thrill of it.

“I’ll hear them before they can,” he says, voice thick with possessive promise, then presses his mouth to my belly like a man who already knows he won’t stop.

Between our bodies, the heat blooms between us. Ever since we decided to give in to this, need has been a constant simmer. I totally understand why it’s called the “honeymoon phase” now. I have to hold myself back, burying my sheer horniness while Charlie is around or we’re here at work.

His hands glide down, gripping the backs of my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. He deposits me on the desk, right on top of the files and papers that he had been pouring over.

Pages crumple beneath me, corners folding under my thighs.

He doesn’t seem to care. Neither do I.

He drags my leggings down slowly, almost like he’s taunting me, but there’s nothing patient in the way he touches me after that. He pulls my panties to the side and then his lips are on me.

Every press of his mouth lights a fuse under my skin. I tremble under his hands, under his tongue, biting my lower lip to muffle my moan as he buries himself between my thighs like a man starved. My fingers clench in his hair, legs tightening around him as he licks and groans. The fact that he’s getting pleasure from this makes me hotter.

I peak hard on his tongue, the intensity ripping through me like a shockwave. My fingers claw at the edge of the desk, the other pressed to my mouth to muffle the sharp sound that threatens to escape. I’m still unraveling when he flips me face-down, hands rough with need but steady, bending me over the desk and kicking my legs apart before I can catch my breath—like he’s claiming what’s his.

I cry out and he groans behind me, low and guttural, as his body slams into mine.

Malachi bends low over my back, one arm banding tight around my waist as he ruts into me with brutal precision, his breath hot against my ear. His fangs drag along the curve of my neck—not piercing, just threatening—and when my cry rips loose, he covers my mouth with his hand, muffling the sound as my body tightens and shatters around him. He follows with a guttural growl, hips jerking as he spills into me, his face buried in my hair, every inch of him trembling against me.

Afterward, he draws a shaky breath and eases back just enough to press his lips between my shoulders. I tremble, spent, as he gently helps me upright and pulls my leggings back into place.

He sinks into his office chair and pulls me into his lap, arms locking around me like a cage. But if it is, it’s one that makes me feel the most freedom I’ve ever had. His breath fans over the side of my face, still a touch ragged, still warm despite the chill soaking through my underused limbs. My back’s to his chest, legs curled sideways over one solid thigh, our heartbeats mismatched but slowly steadying together.

“Are you alright?” Malachi finally asks, voice low, lips brushing the side of my temple.

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