Page 22 of Queen of Tempests and Sin

‘She was called Flopsy, and he’s an absolute cunt-face!’ I whisper-growled, which made him dissolve into hysterics. It was infectious—deep, warm, real—and I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

As the conversation flowed, my gaze kept drifting to his. His eyes were impossible. The rings of azure blue faded into sea-green with a hint of soft silver, blending like watercolour on parchment. Like the sea, I could easily have drowned in the undercurrent of their pull. This man was like decadent dark chocolate, willing you to take a taste, and he was right in his premise… I desperately wanted him.

But just beneath the wine and the flirting and the laughter, tiny balls of guilt began to swirl in my gut.

I had to kill him.

This dangerously arrogant, devastatingly sexy demigod I wanted to spend more time with.

And the awful truth settled in my chest like a lead weight: I really, really didn’t want to.

* * *

An hour later, after a burnt Basque cheesecake, we were leaving the restaurant. I slipped away to the powder room, pulling out my phone to check for a message from Guinn. Before reading it, I dismantled the phone, scanning for any signs of tampering. It was clean, so I popped it back together and opened the text.

“Hey Sis, Sorry I’m late. Pappa confiscated my phone plus he’s in a foul mood, so I can’t wait for you to come home. And yes! You’ve got a date ”

I chuckled at her enthusiasm, pondering on Drakos’s mood. He was likely tetchy about this job and Guinn’s safety. I’d make sure everything went according to plan.

I had no choice… not if I wanted to keep my sister safe.

We drove back to the hotel in companionable silence. Much like me, Si wasn’t one for irrelevant small talk. When we arrived, the valet took his car, and I wandered into the gardens, sitting on a bench, sighing as I closed my eyes. The warm night air coated my skin like a layer of scented lotion.

‘Amelia.’ That raspy voice said my name as if he were tasting it. I opened my eyes to watch Si walking towards me—he moved like a panther… all coiled grace and lithe movements. ‘Come to my penthouse with me. For a nightcap.’ His tone brooked no room for refusal.

‘I’d love to,’ I said huskily, with a small smile, but my silken response didn’t match the razor-sharp talons of regret creeping through my chest. Those swirling orbs of blue and green held dark delight as I reached for his hand.

We walked hand-in-hand to the penthouse elevator and stepped in together. As the doors closed, he turned to me.

‘Can I kiss you?’ The uncertainty in his voice shattered something inside me.

This man—who radiated confidence like a weapon—was suddenly tentative. I nodded. He pressed into me within a flash of movement, the speed of which made my breath hitch. Cupping my face in his big hands, we held each other’s gaze.

He can move at superhuman speeds, you dumb shit. My inner dialogue berated me. This is ridiculous.

Yes, it is ridiculous, inner asshole, but I don’t have a choice. Now take a hike.

‘Are you alright?’ Si’s voice rumbled through my chest as he caged me in his heat.

‘Yes. Just kiss me… Please.’

His mouth captured mine, our tongues entwined in an erotic dance, full of filthy promises. The kiss deepened—hot, wet, and addictive—and I fell into that sinful decadence as fireworks went off in my body, heat coiling low in my core. He kissed me like a hot, dirty dream, tasting like seawater and wickedness, and I kissed him like I was starving for it. Like he was the sin I’d been born to commit.

Ping. The sound of the elevator broke the kiss. I could barely think from the most mind-bendingly passionate kiss of my life.

‘You taste like wine and sin,’ he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. I shivered.

‘I want to fuck you, Amelia.’ His voice was gravel and honey as he dragged me from the elevator. ‘Take off your dress… please.’

My breath caught in my chest. I desperately wanted him. But sorrow weighed down like a rock in my gut. I couldn’t fuck him, then kill him… not the way I felt. It was wrong on so many levels, and it made my stomach curdle. But he did deserve one last beautiful moment.

‘Only if you strip too,’ I said, forcing a sultry smile.

A pause. Then a slow, wicked grin touched his lips.

‘As you wish.’ He removed his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt, and my mouth went dry as he exposed those tattooed pecs and washboard abs. His inked, muscled arms were an homage to arm porn. Holy-moly, he was a snack. He threw his shirt on the floor, kicked off his loafers, and cocked his head, raising a brow.

‘Fine, fine, I was just admiring the view,’ I muttered as I untied my dress, letting it fall from around my neck and pool on the floor. I stepped out of it and stood in my lace strapless bustier, barely there thong, and strappy sandals.