Page 41 of My Dark Divine
“You’re as scary as a baby lion,” she responds with a laugh, attempting to pull away, but I tighten my grip, eliciting a weak whimper from her. “So desperate to grope me, aren’t you?”
I’m not exactly groping her. As much as I want to see her bent over my knee, stripped and vulnerable, I won’t allow myself to act on those desires. There’s a thin line between passionate, chaotic energy and outright madness that can traumatize her.
So I hold back, keeping my hands where a loving fiancé would—wrapped possessively and warmly around her waist. “Trust me, if I decided to grope you, you wouldn’t be in one piece afterward.”
When the spaghetti strap of her black dress slips off her shoulder, I seize the moment. My fingers lightly brush against her bare skin, eliciting a wave of goosebumps. She takes a shaky breath as I slide the strap back onto her shoulder, her fulllips twitching and her eyelashes fluttering like butterflies in the wind.
She’s so beautiful when she’s scared. It feels as though her fear is the sole window into her soul, stripped of any pretense.
I move my fingers across her shoulder, resting them gently on her jawline as I turn her face toward me, my touch soft and tender. The crowd erupts in cheers, their shouts blending with the incessant clicking of cameras. Some scream nonsense, while others chant a single word over and over.
Kiss.
We definitely need more good pictures of that. “Come on, baby girl,” I whisper, slightly tightening my grip on her jaw as I pull her closer. “They want us to kiss.”
A flicker of unease crosses her face, and her cheeks flush deep crimson. I can sense the resentment simmering beneath her heated skin, especially with the muscle clenching under her eye and the way she wrinkles her nose. She rises on her tiptoes, and I lean in, making it easier for her. But just as our lips meet, she pulls away so quickly that I barely register the kiss.
That’s not what I want.
Before she pulls away completely, I shift my hand from her jaw to her hair, lightly gripping a handful of strands. Her breathing quickens, and I feel her resistance, but she knows she can’t make a scene in front of the crowd.
And me? I’m just a man who wants to kiss his fiancée.
“This is the kind of kiss you give your dog on the nose,” I murmur against her lips, aware that she’s still reeling from our fight in the car. She deserves better than me forcing myself on her right now, but I can’t help it—not when she looks so fucking vulnerable and completely mine. “I deserve better, don’t you think?”
A scowl flickers across her beautiful face but vanishes just as quickly. She presses her lips to mine once more, this time notpulling away. My tongue slides into her mouth, swirling around hers, and suddenly, everything else fades away—no screaming crowd, no responsibilities, no hate, nothing.
A moan tears from my chest, echoing into her throat, the heat of our connection igniting my skin. She tastes so fucking sweet it feels unreal—Venetia Ross looks and acts like anything but that.
But at this moment, her sweetness rivals that of the finest candy.
As our bodies near the point of grinding against each other, I pull back, the absence of her warm mouth nearly driving me to my knees in agony. If we were alone, I’d want more, but with all these idiots around, it’d be a bit awkward.
She turns away from me, breathless, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and I can’t help the smug grin spreading across my bruised face.
This is just the beginning.
Completely exhausted,I flop onto the bed, the mattress bouncing from the force of my landing. A groan escapes as I sink into the softness of the sheets, ready to warm up the icy silk beneath me. Grabbing my pillow, I settle my cheek against it and close my eyes, the tendrils of sleep already reaching for me.
It’s been a long fucking day.
“Are you seriously thinking you’re going to sleep in here with me?” Venetia asks, disbelief dripping from her tone. Yeah, the room with a single bed was already booked for us, no questions asked. Unfortunately, we have to stick to our little legend, even behind closed doors.
I exhale a ragged breath, lacking the energy for an argument. “Yes. Don’t worry, I’m too tired to care about you.”
She pauses, and I can feel her intense gaze boring into my back. “No. I don’t want you here. You’re… you’re taking up all the space. I can barely move!”
“Then leave if I’m bothering you so much,” I mumble drowsily, already halfway to sleep. My face aches from nagging bruises, my throat is dry from all the talking I had to do, and my back and legs hurt from all the walking we’ve done. I’m anything but up to giving her what she wants. This is one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept on.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman?” she retorts. “You’re making me uncomfortable. Take the couch,please.”
I chuckle at the last word. “Well, if you say please, then sure.”
She keeps staring at me, waiting for me to get up like I’m some obedient dog. When she realizes I’m not moving, she huffs in irritation, angrily turning to the side and slamming—yes,slamming—her head against the pillow.
Seconds turn into minutes, and even through my haze, I can hear her huffs, grunts, and the clicking of her tongue. But with the heavy fatigue weighing me down, I eventually drift off to sleep amidst the distractions. My mind carries me to a safe place until something sharp radiates through my arm, jolting me awake.
Slowly, I turn to Venetia, immediately catching the wild gleam in her eyes, even in the darkness. “What the fuck was that?”
