Page 36 of Pride: Kneel Before None

She could thank me for my sacrifice later with my cock buried deep in her pretty little throat.

Eve’s demeanor shifted, embracing that holier-than-thou aura that I both loved and wanted to fuck right out of her. Releasing the death hold on the railing, she straightened and cleared the bottom step, moving with intent towards the kitchen.

When she passed me, my fingers twitched at my sides. The unsated desire simmered in my veins, making me want to grab her and pull her against me. I’d thread my fingers in her sleep-tousled hair before savoring the taste of her mouth on mine. All of it would be a reminder of who she still belonged to.

But business came first.

Turning to Valphyr, my voice dropped to a low murmur. “Inform Ignatius that his services will be needed this afternoon and to be here no later than three o’clock. My Little Spade and I will be going out for dinner and a show.”

Val typically embraced an unsettling amount of calm as a reflection of his clan’s diplomatic reputation. However, for those who were close to him, that slight twitch of his right eyebrow hinted at his dissent.

“I respectfully recommend more thorough monitoring⁠—”

I cut him off with a sharp look, one that could cut through any enemy more effectively than a scorching knife through lard rendered from a gluttonous imp.

He dipped his head in concession. “Understood. I will have my full report to you before day’s end.”

After his departure, I made my way to the kitchen where I leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of my dress slacks. I watched as Eve struggled to navigate the kitchen cabinets, one door swung open then shut with a thud before she checked another.

“Far left,” I advised.

She paused, the annoyance radiating off her in waves.

“I can find it myself,” she huffed out. “I don’t need your help.”

Despite her declaration, it didn’t stop her from going to the cupboard I had directed her to.

My lips twitched at the corners when she opened the cabinet only to discover the coffee mugs were one shelf down from the top, well beyond her reach.

Stubbornly, she stood on her tiptoes, attempting to overextend herself only to still be no less than six inches shy of success.

After letting her make several attempts, I finally pushed off the doorframe and walked over to the cabinet. Standing behind her, I leaned over and grabbed one of the oversized black mugs with ease, the front of my body brushing against her back as I did.

Without taking a step back, I offered it to her. The fire in her sapphire eyes when she spun around to face me was worth whatever venomous thoughts she might have had right then.

Eve plucked the mug out of my hands and pushed her way past, stalking over to the coffee machine. She muttered loudly enough for me to catch her complaint. “Who the hell puts mugs up on the third shelf?”

Turning, I leaned back against the counter, folding my arms in front of my chest and not bothering to hide my smirk.

“Those of us who like to remind feisty things like yourself why you might need a little help every now and again.”

Her sidelong glance as she filled her mug was both refusal and admission at once.

Unable to resist riling her up further—cause fuck I missed her damn sass—I blatantly dragged my gaze down the length of her body before adding, “The pajamas look good on you.”

The coffee mug had been halfway to her mouth before she put it back down on the counter, turning to face me with a pretty little scowl. I was sure it was meant to be a deterrent. My dick didn’t get the memo.

“Of course they look good on me,” she snipped. Then she pointed a finger at me. “But do you know what doesn’t look good? The fact I don’t remember putting them on. That some creep with an ego bigger than all of the Concord combined dressed me like a doll while I was completely unaware.”

I almost snorted, almost.

“You didn’t seem nearly as concerned about your modesty when your cunt was riding my face in that alley the other night.” I waved a dismissive hand. It was neither here nor there. “Don’t worry, Little Spade, your virtue remains intact. My housekeeper, Julissa, did the honors. Perks of employing a witch. Fabric transmutations cost only a quiet chant and a wiggle of the fingers.”

Eve opened her mouth, but her words vanished off the tip of her tongue. Sealing her lips shut, she eyed me with suspicion bordering on paranoia. There was no doubt she was searching for any hint of deception in my otherwise steely façade. I didn’t let her find any.

Ultimately, she took the route of deflection with a change of topic.

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All. Why don’t you explain why the hell I woke up feeling like I had a hangover that rivaled unholy death with a side of insidious plaguerot?”