The Darkness Within

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Sergei

Kira's breaths come hard and fast beneath me, the flare of lust in her eyes enchanting. I revel in the way her green orbs drink me in with a greedy, almost possessive expression as she arches her back, offering herself up to me.

Combat always turns me on—but after Kira had her first kill and became a made woman, I got an erection so prominent it was painful to walk. I barely made it through the last hour without tearing her clothes off and taking her hard, but I knew she needed time to process through the shootout. Needed time to compartmentalize recent events in her mind.

Even watching her think is a turn-on. The woman is like walking, breathing Viagra to me, since I can see the depth of intelligence in her eyes. I can practically feel how fast her mind works—it's enthralling to me.

Wanting to savor her, I kiss one corner of her mouth, and then the other. I transfer both of her wrists in one hand, carefully watching her expression to see how she reacts to being restrained. Our sex hasn't exactly been vanilla, but it also hasn't devolved fully into my brand of kink, either.

She doesn't protest as I lean down to nuzzle her breasts, sucking one of her nipples into my mouth before nipping the tender flesh beneath it. She lets out a small moan that bewitches me further, making me ravenous for her. Every part of her—body, mind, soul, and even heart.

Before meeting her, I never truly cared about a woman's pleasure. If she got off, she got off. If she didn't, she didn't. It really made no difference to me. But I've found that watching and feeling Kira come is beyond addictive. The total abandon she always displays is compelling, entrancing.

When I meet her eyes again, they're hazy with lust and desire. She arches her back even more, drawing a chuckle out of me.

"You're a little nymphomaniac, aren't you?" I ask her, more than pleased that her sex drive seemingly matches mine.

She blinks several times, before one corner of her full lips kicks up. "I guess that makes you a satyriasis," she murmurs, her voice sounding like liquid sex.

I pause for a moment. "A what?"

Her lips curve wider. "The male counterpart of a nymphomaniac. The word comes from the Greek mythological creatures, Satyrs, which were half-beast half-men known for voracious sexual appetites. Legend has it they were always erect."

I stare at her, dumbfounded, because I can't remember the last time someone used a word I didn't know—or had any knowledge that I don't. It simply doesn't happen. Instead of that frustrating me, it entices me even further, because I've finally found my match.

I give her my full weight, inhaling deeply against her throat. "You have no idea how refreshing it is to have an equal," I sigh, nuzzling her hair. "I feel like I've been waiting for you my entire life."

The depth of sincerity in my words surprises both of us, though it shouldn't surprise me. I knew from the moment I set eyes on her that I was utterly fucked. That I wouldn't be able to go back to who I was before meeting her—that I'd never be able to let her go.

In the quietest murmur, Kira says, "What's past is prologue." I recognize the quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest.

"What to come, in yours and my discharge," I whisper in response, finishing the quote. A quote that can, essentially, sum up our relationship—because we were both completely different people before we met. Primarily emotionless, coldly calculating.

Kira lets out a long-suffering sigh, going lax beneath me. I frown into her neck before pulling away. "What's wrong?"

She gives her head a small shake, her smile turning sardonic. "You know Shakespeare."