Page 66 of Gilded in Blood

When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I pause. My hair is a tangled mess. There are faint bite marks and hickeys scattered across my neck and breasts, visible where the shirt slips off one shoulder.

I run my fingers over one of the marks, a little thrill running through me.

I kind of like them. The thought surprises me. I’ve never been the type to want marks like this, but seeing his claim on my skin… it does something to me.

After brushing my teeth, I pull my hair into a messy bun. As I reach for my moisturizer, my gaze catches the faint red welts circling my wrists.

Heat creeps into my cheeks.

My mind flashes back to the first time I noticed similar marks on Calina’s wrists. She’d brushed them off, claiming she’d had an allergic reaction to a bracelet.

I almost laugh. Liar. Now I know exactly where those marks came from.

A smile spreads across my face as I imagine teasing her mercilessly about it. She’d deny everything for all of five seconds before we’d both burst into laughter.

God, I wish I could call and tell her everything about Ilya. The moment I told her I’d been sleeping with my bodyguard, she’d completely lose it.

Letting out a sigh, I splash more water on my face, and leave the bathroom.

The penthouse feels as usual. I make my way to the kitchen, still wearing nothing but his shirt, the fabric brushing softly against my thighs with every step.

My eyes immediately find the plate waiting for me on the island.

Scrambled eggs. Buttered toast. Fresh berries arranged neatly on the side. A mug of coffee still sitting beneath the warmer.

A smile spreads across my face. He told me he doesn’t like cooking. He said he’s no good at it. But he still took the time to do this for me.

I take a seat by the island and eat slowly, the apartment wrapped in silence around me. My mind drifts back to last night. The way he had been there for me when I broke down over Maria.

I can’t stop thinking about last night. The way he tied me. The blindfold. The way he controlled my breathing.

The intensity of it all. I’ve never felt pleasure like that before. It was overwhelming in the best possible way.

I smile to myself as I start reheating the breakfast he left for me, wondering when he’ll be back.

And how soon I can have him again.

I bring the fork to my lips, then pause as a memory flashes, the soft brush of his mouth against mine right before I fell asleep.

Did he really kiss me? Or was that a dream? He told me he doesn’t kiss. But it felt so real.

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away. No, it can't be. I must have imagined it.

I finish eating, wash my plate, and decide I need to move my body. Working out always helps clear my head.

I go back to my room to change into workout clothes and look for my earbuds. I can’t find them. I must have left them in the gym the last time.

I leave the apartment and take the private elevator to the gym. The hallway is empty.

As I walk past the basement door, I hear it again. That low, pained groaning.

I stop dead in my tracks. My heart picks up speed. Maybe I’m imagining it again.

Then it comes a second time. Longer this time. Someone is definitely down there, and they sound like they're in pain.

Every instinct tells me to investigate. Another voice immediately argues back. You're not meant to go down there.

Don't put yourself in danger.