Page 80 of His Hell Girl

She doesn't answer, merely shrugging as she moves around the room, assessing the damage. Bending a little, she studies the corpse of one of the prisoners, her finger trailing over my straight cut. She does the same with all the bodies before stopping in front of me.

"Interesting," she notes, and I try my best to read her.

Is she mad? Disappointed in me? Is she going to leave me? She can't do that. No, of course I won't let her do that.

But is that a goodinterestingor a badinteresting?

Does she think I've been deceiving her?

Fucking Hades, but that will earn me minus points, and I barely got a few as it is. I can't lose her trust. Or her regard. Or her anything.

My heart starts beating wildly in my chest as I realize she's got me cornered. Rising out of the water, I start wading toward her, but she just stretches one arm toward me, her hand raised as she shakes one finger back and forth in adon't you daretype of movement.

Fuck… I'm fucked.

"I can explain," I immediately say, but she continues to move her fingers to her mouth in a shushing movement.

My mind is immediately in overdrive as I command my brain to think of all potential scenarios and what I can do to get out of this mess. I already have a list of gifts prepared, as well as more carved hearts since they seem to do the trick.

I prepare to exit the pool, but just as I take another step toward her, she stops me. One hand up, she shakes her head at me, motioning me to stay put.

18

VLAD

Her fingers are already on the buttons of her dress as she slowly unbuttons them. Her eyes are on me, as if she's daring me to look at her sensuous movements.

She doesn't have to tell me as I'm already enthralled by the flesh peeking from her collarbone… then her cleavage… Soon, the entire length of the dress has been unbuttoned, and she slides it off her body, dropping it to the ground.

"Fuck," I whisper as my eyes take in her form.

She's not wearing anything under.

I survey her from head to toe. Her golden olive skin glints in the lighting of the room, making her look like a goddess come down from heaven—responding to the offering of blood. Her tits are round and firm, the nipples already hard and pebbled.

My gaze goes lower, to her smooth stomach and defined waistline.

I swallow.

I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of her. She is so exquisite that no words can describe her. Fuck, but even a dictionary would likely be speechless—or is it wordless?

See, even my brain malfunctions when it comes to her!

Her hips are curved and shapely, flaring slightly outwards in the perfect hourglass figure. I move lower, to the small patch of trimmed blonde hair nestled between her legs. That delectable place that's only mine, and willonlyever be mine.

"Sisi," I hiss, my body already primed for hers, my cock straining to attention as my eyes bask in her glory.

I was made to worship this woman.

There's no doubt about it. Not when my knees tremble slightly, already seeking to kneel in front of her and give her the respect she deserves.

She's the only thing in the entire universe that could bring me to my knees, and oh, but I'd gladly fall. For a taste of her, I'd do more than that. I'd prostate myself at her feet.

She moves, her feet almost gliding on the marble floor, her long, toned legs flexing and emphasizing her shape even more.

Damn!

She dips her toes in the bloody water, her lips twitching when she approves of the temperature. Then, slowly, tantalizingly so, she starts descending, the bloody water greeting her skin and staining it.

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