Page 233 of The Call of Crimson
Understanding flashes through his teal eyes. “You don’t have to justify anything to me, little assassin. I quite literally kill people for a living.”
He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers slowly trailing down my throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Do they deserve it?” I ask, not sure if I really want the answer.
“Some of them.”
“But not all of them?”
“No one is truly innocent, Ophelia.”
“Elijah was,” I whisper. Pain dances in his eyes, my chest constricting at the sight of it.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Since Elijah died, I have felt one of two things: violent, burning rage or nothing at all. I tire of having no control over my feelings. Ineedto feel something other than that, Cillian. That moment when I see their life fading away gives me a reprieve.”
He nods in clear understanding. “Sooner or later, the prince will catch on. If you need to feel, Ophelia, if you crave that control, there are much better ways.” His tone is suggestive, heating my blood even further.
I reach a tentative hand out to cup his jaw. Desperate to feel more of this, more than just the anger of the last weeks, I whisper, “Show me.”
A devilish grin spreads across his handsome face. Leaning close so our lips are nearly touching, he murmurs, “I’m going to give you that control you crave, darling. But I’m going to take away all illusions of control in the process.” His breath ghosts my lips, hot and dangerous. “You will do exactly as I say.Noandstophave no place between us. If you want this to end, you will saylilac. Am I understood?”
I nod, silently begging him to close the distance between our lips.
“I need verbal confirmation, Ophelia.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“What’s your word?”
“Lilac,” I say, my voice breathy.
His nostrils flare at my response. “One last thing, this can’t mean anything. I’ll give you what you need, but I can’t be anything more.”
“I don’t want this to mean anything,” I confirm. I need to feel something. “I just want you to fuck me, Cillian.”
“Good. Now close your eyes.”
I feel his lips brush faintly against mine and a slight tugging sensation before the scrape of the brick behind me disappears.
With my eyes still closed, Cillian takes the dagger from my hand, tossing it somewhere behind us.
“Open your eyes.”
When I do, I find us not in the alley but in a bedroom, presumably his.
“Why—”
“No questions,” he growls as he unfastens my cloak, letting it drop to the floor.
A moment later, his lips finally meet mine, taking my mouth in a scorching kiss. He wastes no time deepening it, demanding entrance with his tongue.
I give in, parting my lips for him and meeting his tongue with my own. His scent invades my nostrils, a rich mixture of clove and vanilla. Everything about him is intoxicating.
With every kiss and lash of his tongue, the anger and pain in me fade, overrun by the heat blossoming in my core.
Long fingers make quick work of my corset, unlacing and pulling it from my body. It drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a shift. It does nothing to hide my peaked nipples, and he takes notice.
