“I am. My people revere me for it.”
“Your people.” He smiled again and it made her knees week. “The gypsies from Ireland.”
“How did ya…?”
He gestured toward her mouth. “Your accent. It’s very distinctive.”
“Have ya been to Ireland, then?”
“I have been everywhere.”
“But now ya live here?”
His face darkened at that. “In a manner, yes.” He stopped moving toward her, and gestured toward a table in the corner. “Are you hungry?”
Magically, two plates heaped with food and two full wine glasses appeared on the table. The smell hit Kiara’s nose and her stomach clenched, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in a while.
She nodded and followed her nose to the table. She sat without preamble, picked up her fork and dug in. She had no qualms about not waiting for him to sit next to her. This wasn’t a dinner date.
Watching her intensely, he sat and picked up his wine glass to take a sip. “You’re very earthy.”
Pausing mid-chew, she peered at him. “Are ya saying I have no manners?”
“Of course not. I’m saying you’re not meek or timid.”
“Why would I be?”
“Don’t you know who I am? What I am?”
She nodded, her head high. “Aye, I know.”
“And you are not afraid?”
She met his gaze, boldly. “No.”
He grinned again and set his wine glass down on the table. “Good. I don’t want a timid woman in my bed.”
She nearly choked on the food in her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“Well, that’s what you came here for, isn’t it? For me to fuck you.”
She dropped the fork this time and gaped at him.
“Don’t feign innocence. I watched you earlier, when you were masturbating. I saw the look of lust and longing in your eyes. You came to the library looking for me, did you not?”
She wanted to deny it, tell him in no uncertain terms did she want him to fuck her. But she couldn’t deny it. She did want him. Oh, Lord, did she ever. Her panties were already sodden just thinking about him, smelling his delicious scent.
“I’ve dreamed of ya several times,” she finally confessed. “But I n’er thought ya were truly real.”
“I’m as real as the throb between your thighs, mon chère.”
The moment he mentioned what was going on between her legs, everything intensified. Her pussy throbbed harder, fiercer. She squirmed in her chair against the onslaught of fiery need swirling deep inside. She bit down on her lip to stop a moan from bursting out.
By the lusty look in his eye, he must’ve noticed every little change. Could he hear her heart pounding? Could he smell her desire? Could he taste it in the air? He licked his lips as if in answer to her silent question.
“Who are ya?” she asked.
“I am Malvo, one of the great dukes of the underworld.”
“Why would I dream of ya?”
He arched one eyebrow as if pondering the question. “I don’t know. But I’m glad you have. I’ve gone too long without a real woman’s affections.” He gestured toward her plate. “Are you quite through with your dinner?”
It was an odd question, but she nodded.
“Good.” Faster then she could see, he swept his arm over the table, sending everything crashing to the floor. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Because you’re the dessert.”
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Dominique's Release: A Captive Souls story Page 9
