The Key (Sanguinem Emere) Read Free Page B

skull, had enraptured me; seemingly so sincere, even with a playful grin twisting his lips.
    “I still owe you a story, yes?”
    My mind rumbled with guilt once again at my inability to focus on the matter at hand as I found his words to be unimportant. But I pulled my hand out of his and drew myself up as much as possible, trying to distil some semblance of control through my spine, “Yes,” I grinned mischievously at him, “And here I was beginning to suspect that the last three weeks have been a decoy to deter me from uncovering your deep, dark secret.”
    He raised an eyebrow with that same, smug, smirk gracing his lips. But before he could stop my sudden self-assurance I delved in, “So, Mister Kron, what skeletons are you keeping from me?”
    My fingers curled closed around the edge of my journal, small enough to be unnoticed and large enough to carry a vast amount of script, buried and neglected in my pocket. But his hand reached out for my arm and, involuntarily, I drew in a shaken breath.
    “It’s late, Eva,” My nerves tingled as his fingers squeezed lazily about my wrist, “Delilah said something about a do on Saturday. Something to do with her father winning his case. I can’t be certain of the details, my mind was on other things,” He smiled slyly at me, “However, the event is being held at her residence. Be there.”
    I gave him an exasperated look at that. After weeks of being in one another’s company, he had to have realised I loathed commands made on my time, but he winked disarmingly at me and once again I cursed myself for the ridiculous schoolgirl blush making my face light up like a paper lantern.
    “I promise you, you will leave satisfied.”
    The words practically made me sigh, but the tone of his voice and the heady look in his eyes made me cringe with my inability to greet him properly when the cab dropped me off at my flat.
    And now he curls around me in the shadows, somewhere in this darkened room and I can’t think where to begin.
    Dammit! The journal. I left it with my bag downstairs. Not the end of everything; surely Delilah will be keeping an eye out for my things. And besides, I have a memory like a vault; nothing he says will fall by the wayside.
    “Dimitri,” I try not to whisper into the night-time haven surrounding me, but the quiet in this room makes me feel like my words are breaking the tender calm of a mausoleum. His cold fingers on my throat silence me as my back arches like a pleased, pleasured cat. My hair is lifted from the nape of my neck and I can feel soft, velvet-ice lips brushing against the sensitivity of my skin, making me shiver and want to crawl away, but also to crawl into him, causing muscles all along my spine to contract as I lean closer to him.
    The rustle of his silken shirt against my bare back where the cocktail dress Delilah did me up in dips, eases my tension, as the need to have him spill his guts is subdued by his aptitude at soothing me, which becomes achingly apparent.
    Obfuscated by envious shadows, his skin lounges against my own as he strokes my face. When I close my eyes, I ignore the hidden objects surrounding us and I can veritably feel him moving around my body, surveying me in the night, even though he surely can see nothing but ink, the same as I. I reach out towards him, but fingers clutch at my wrist and push it back down by my side as those frozen-silk lips trace the passages and cliffs of my face again and a whisper carries to my ears from the cleft of my cheek, just as it dips to my neck, “Yes, Eva?”
    “I have questions,” My hesitation is rife through my own mumble, I can hear it and it vexes me, much the same as the slight lilt to my words damns me, a moan almost, a signal of my forfeit in this fight.
    “You do.” His voice, lilting sweetly to my ears makes my skin twitch and my blood sing as I feel it thrumming to my fingertips where it pulses beneath the pads of my flesh.
    I want to touch him, but his bones still