Page 31 of Jewel of the Assassin
Zina laughs and turns on her heel. “Come. I’ll take you back to your room. You should rest.”
I fall into step beside her, pulse still throbbing at the base of my throat.
She glances over her shoulder. “He’s working off steam, you know. Preparing himself.”
“Preparing for what?” I ask, though I already feel the answer penetrating my bones.
Zina smiles, slow and devastating. “To be in the ultimate state of control.”
A shiver slides down my spine. “Control for what?”
Her eyes sparkle like frost catching fire. “To make sure he can last. All. Night. Long.”
The sun has set.
Roman hasn’t bothered with overhead lights. Instead, lanterns and tall candles flicker in the room. Their soft glow dances across polished wood and velvet drapery, gilding the edges of his silhouette like he’s forged from midnight.
He sits across from me, his posture both regal and dangerous. Like he owns the room. The night.Me.
He wears a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, exposing the cords of muscle. The collar is undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of chest hair, like he didn’t bother to finish dressing because he knows he doesn’tneed to. Sharp black slacks. He looks like sin dressed in etiquette. A gentleman only until the door clicks shut.
The low light makes him look darker. Sinister. But also—seductive. His dominance stokes the slow-burning fever spreading through my body.
I’ve barely touched my food. I pick at it with my fork, trying not to let my hand tremble. All I can taste is fear as the desire pulses through me. And wine.
Too much wine.It helps numb the edges. Or maybe sharpen them.
I know a storm is coming. He’s bringing it. What’s happening now is the dark clouds descending.
Roman hasn’t told me what he plans to do with me tonight. And that terrifies me more than anything. I’ll hate it, but he’ll make me want it. I’ll beg for it. And I’ll never be the same after.
Part of me wants to protest, reason with him. I was just in a life-or-death accident, right? It’s too soon.
He cuts into his food, unhurried, watching me from under his lashes. Tension vibrates through his body. Nothing with Roman is too soon. The world bends to his will, his timing. I will, too. But I’ll spit fire the whole time.
“Not to your liking?” he asks casually as he gestures to the food.
I lift my eyes to his, trying to steady my breath. “It’s perfect,” I murmur. “I’m just… nervous.”
He sets his knife down. Folds his hands. Nods once. “Understandable.” Then his gaze sharpens—darkens—hunts. “You’re right to be afraid.”
“Oh?”
I resist every urge to shiver.
“I’m going to tear you in half tonight, Valentina. I’m splitting your pretty pussy open and making it mine. Making you mine. In every way a man can for his woman. And a king for his queen.”
My lungs nearly collapse. My heart hammers in my eardrums.
“Breathe, Maya Valya.”
I drag slow, deep breaths through my nose and reach for my wine. But Roman stops me. At first, I narrow my eyes and tug on the wine glass, but with one daggered glare, I let go. There is no running from this. There’s no escaping him.
“You will scream,” he assures me. “But you will also kneel and beg, cry and crawl to me. I will make sure of it.”
I grit my teeth. “You can try.”
“Challenge accepted.” He rises with a feral gleam in his eye, like he’s ready to feast. “Let us commence.”
