A Cruel Love (Cavalieri Della Morte Book 6) by S.M. Soto

Author:S.M. Soto [Soto, S.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

Closer

Percivale

The startling warmth of her body pressed against mine has me glancing down for the hundredth time within the last hour or so. My eyes are glued to her, still unsure what the fuck to do. I’ve never slept with a woman before, let alone let them lie in my arms. Scratch that—I’ve slept with plenty of women; I’ve just never woken up with one beside me in the morning or slept with her and stayed long enough to allow her body to practically wrap around me like a contortionist. I shift beneath her, craning my head to look down at her to give myself a better view.

Her blonde hair is splayed out across my chest. Her delicate features look even more soft while she sleeps. I’ve never seen anything so pure or innocent, and here it is lying in the arms of a killer. A killer meant to snuff out all that purity and innocence.

I fucked up last night. Then again this morning. Even I know that.

I shouldn’t have fucked her. Probably should’ve just killed her, right then and there when she scratched me. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even fucking want to. I’ve never struggled with any decision as much as I’ve been struggling with this one. Just the thought of getting rid of Blossom makes my lungs squeeze. If things were different, if I was different, I might even consider keeping her because she isn’t so bad. If I had the time, I’d break down her defenses. Unwrap her layer by layer and make her mine.

She’s infuriating, infatuating, and so fucking sexy my cock thinks it belongs to her.

The fact of the matter is, I’m running out of time. We’re both running out of time. I have four more days until I’m due to meet with Arthur. He’s going to expect the job to be done. I just don’t know if I have it in me to get rid of this woman in my arms.

I manage to slip out of the bed without waking her and get dressed. She doesn’t even stir. With my bag in hand, I glance over my shoulder and my eyes settle on her bare leg, no sight of the cuff or chain. Part of me wants to snap it back on her, just to be safe, but the other part, the bigger part of me, hopes that this time when I leave it off, she’ll run, far, far away from me—for both of our sakes.

Closing the door softly behind me, I climb into the car and snatch her file out of the compartment. I flip more thoroughly through the paperwork, no longer looking for dirt on her, but someone else entirely. When I find his name under her high school reports, displayed with pictures of her prom night, my lips thin into a grim line as I stare at the man in the photograph.

Ryan Eastlake.

With a new plan in motion, I snap the file shut and pull my phone out of my pocket and start putting the pieces together.

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