Page 92 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“Wait,” I forced out, my voice ragged.

She let out a husky noise of protest. “What?”

I caught one of her wrists and pressed a kiss to her racing pulse. “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”

“I’m not agreeing to anything but this,” she said, fierce and breathless, leaning in as though proximity alone could restart the kiss. “Right now.”

Her jacket hung off one shoulder, her lips swollen, eyes bright with need. It was everything I craved. Still, I somehow mustered the will to step back, my body screaming in frustration.

“This isn’t…” I raked a hand through my hair, trying to tamp down my own desire. “There are things you don’t know about me—about us—before we?—”

A sharp chime rang through the training chamber, a magical alarm announcing someone’s urgent request. The door flew open and slammed against the wall. Sims stood on the threshold, wide-eyed.

“My lord, there’s an incident at the—” He froze, noticing Arabella’s disheveled state and my half-undone shirt. “I apologize for interrupting.”

My teeth ground together. “What incident?”

Sims was either brave or foolish enough to meet my gaze. “A breach in our defenses near Arvoryn. Immediate attention required.”

“Understood,” I muttered, barely disguising my fury. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Sims bowed so fast he nearly toppled over, then backed out of the room. I slammed the door shut behind him with a wave of shadow. The echo died away, leaving a silence heavy with everything left unsaid.

Arabella slid off the table, straightening her clothes with almost regal composure, though her cheeks still burned.

“Arabell—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Just don’t.”

I reached for her, but let my hand fall uselessly to my side. “We should talk about what just happened.”

“What’s to say?” She avoided my eyes. “You got carried away. It happens.”

“That’s not?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said icily. “Deal with your breach, Dark Lord.”

She pivoted and walked out, not once looking back. The door slammed behind her, leaving me standing alone in a swirl of frustration and unslaked desire. My breathing was still ragged and my mind buzzed with the memory of her taste, the way she felt in my arms. She deserved the truth. Soon, I told myself.

But first, I needed to murder whoever caused that damn breach. And possibly Sims, for his supremely shitty timing.

39

RETREAT AND REGROUP (AND HATE HIM MORE)

ARABELLA

I reached our chambers at a near run and slammed the door behind me, pressing my back against the heavy wood while I tried to steady my breathing.

“That arrogant, insufferable—” I swore, then kicked my boot against the door. A dull thud echoed across the room. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs. My skin still tingled from where his hands had been. Where they almost had been. By the gods, what had I been thinking?

I hadn’t been thinking at all. That was the problem. One moment, we’d been training. The next, his mouth was on mine, his hands braced around my waist, and I was ready to let him have me right there on the table.

Then he stopped.

And now, I was left alone with this… thisneedclawing beneath my skin.

“Damn him,” I whispered, tugging at the collar of my training leathers. Everything felt too warm and tight. My hands shook, whether from the lingering shadow essence I’d absorbed or fromthe memory of his touch. I could no longer tell. Magic, hunger, and confusion all blurred together.

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