Chapter 30
Derian
Fucking her was a mistake.
I knew it the moment it was over, because one time isn’t enough.
Not nearly enough.
I could fuck her a hundred times, a thousand, and still need more. I could memorize every inch of her body and still need to see it spread before me. I could hear every moan and sigh pour from her mouth and still need the music of her pleasure.
I could have her beneath me, above me, wrapped around me, and still need her.
Since the moment I saw her in that silver gown, I thought I just needed to get it out of my system. I thought that once I had her, I would be able to move past this inconvenient obsession I have with the assassin.
I’m starting to realize that I have been so terribly wrong.
I started all of this, called the Conclave, with a simple goal. I just wanted to ensure the Mortal responsible for killing Kai would die without implicating my people in breaking this ridiculous truce.
Tomorrow I’m going to accomplish that.
So why the fuck am I sitting here now, hours after I’ve left her arms, still staring at the faint half-moon bruises on my arm, unable to stop thinking about her? Aching for her? I'm practically desperate to throw aside my blanket and return to her.
In just a few hours, the sun will rise and my plan will work. The guilty party will be punished. Justice will be served.
And yet—
I can still feel her fingers in my hair. Still taste her on my tongue. Still see the way she looked when she came undone.
I stare at the ceiling, exhaling sharply.
I called this Conclave to kill her.
But now, I’m not sure I want to see her dead.