Page 34 of Balthazar's Fire

Font Size:

Page 34 of Balthazar's Fire

Her heart accelerated at the acknowledgement. There was definitely something strange and grotesque about Oliver. She’d seen him change in front of her own eyes, and yet still she wanted to persuade herself that she’d only imagined the monster, that it was the trauma of his attack on Balthazar and his ill-intent which had conjured the vision. Cherie wanted more than anything to believe it wasn’t true, but when her new lover had announced that he was also a shape-shifter, there was no choice but to face reality.

Pulse quickening, she opened her eyes to look upon Balthazar once more. She hadn’t imagined his confession as well, had she? Thinking hard, she envisioned their conversation the night before, recalling his exact words.

“The reason I’m so familiar with shape-shifters is because I am one.”

He’d seemed so serious when he’d said it, and she couldn’t understand any reason why he’d fabricate such a colorful lie, so it had to be true. Didn’t it? Swallowing hard, Cherie wrestled with the competing ideas. Could there really be a world of men who transformed into powerful mythological creatures out there? One that she, and presumably most of the population, were entirely oblivious to?

“Good morning.” Breaking her train of thought, his husky voice resonated in her ear.

“Hi,” she managed nervously, conscious of the animated butterflies in her belly all stretching their wings at the same time.

Cherie had scarcely ever woken up in a stranger’s bedroom before, let alone naked, but with Balthazar, it was excitement rather than apprehension that stirred inside her. She’d loved the intimacy they’d shared the night before and had no regrets about her choices, but staring into his big brown eyes, she longed for more. She had no right to demand it from him, but that fact didn’t quell the growing yearning.

“How did you sleep?” He rose on one elbow, the cover slipping down to reveal his well-developed chest and the beginning of his honed abdominals. Balthazar was like one of those models Cherie had sometimes seen in men’s magazines.

Definitely too good to be true.

“Well, thank you,” she replied. “Though I think I did pass out on you, so… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently. “After everything you’d been through, it was understandable.”

“Thank you for looking after me.” Her pussy tightened at how that sounded, reminding her of how Balthazar had felt inside of her. “And putting me to bed.”

“You’re welcome.” He flashed her a stunning smile, throwing back the cover and swinging his legs from the bed. “Let me make you a coffee.”

“No, I couldn’t ask you to go to any trouble,” she insisted, eyeing his pert backside as he strode around the bed. “I should get out of your hair.”

Though every fiber of her body wanted to stay, locked up in his tower, and in his bed, for as long as he’d have her.

“Don’t you dare.” Striding toward her, Balthazar was the picture of masculinity, all hard lines and inviting soft hair. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge so soon, Cherie?”

If it was possible, her heart rate sped up at his feigned caution.

“I…” She couldn’t help but gaze longingly at his semi-erect dick. She recalled just how splendid it had been fucking her into submission. “I thought that was only for last night.”

“Oh, no.” Falling to his haunches by the side of the bed, his smirk was the embodiment of every delicious sin she had imagined playing out with him. And ever since he’d strode into Oliver’s office, she had imagined. “I told you last night, I make the rules, beautiful. Unless…” His voice trailed away as he peered around at the door. “You genuinely want to leave, in which case, I’ll make you coffee to go.”

“I don’t want to,” she admitted in a rush.

The truth was she had nowhere to be, no one waiting for her, and not even a job to go to. If Balthazar was game, she was his for the taking.

“I’m sorry?” His eyebrow arched in that fucking scintillating way she’d adored the night before. “What was that?”

The butterflies in her belly fluttered in competing directions, making it difficult to think.

“Sir,” she added, knowing instinctively what he was waiting for and more than prepared to give it to him. Submitting to Balthazar had been the most incredible sexual experience of her life. “I don’t want to go, sir.”

“Then stay.” His smile was easily the most alluring she’d ever seen. “I meant what I said, Cherie. I’m going to look after you. Monroe is still out there, and he’ll be pissed that you’re gone.”

“Yeah.”

Unease shifted in her stomach at the idea that Oliver would be looking for her. He’d already proven that he was determined and quite prepared to inflict harm to get what he wanted. Her disquiet ballooned as she remembered how close he had come to getting what he wanted.

“It’s okay.” Reaching for her, Balthazar swept her hair away from her face and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Rising to his full height, he turned and walked out of the bedroom. She watched him leave, still in awe of his physique and his apparent need to take care of her, and yet still unsure if she had faith in his words. Not that Balthazar had given her any reason for mistrust—he’d been the consummate gentleman right from the start and she was sure he meant everything he said—but life had taught Cherie not to believe all that glittered was gold. She’d learned the hard way, too, raised by a single mum in a house where there had never been much affluence, and she’d been forced to slog it out in crap jobs despite her education. Cherie had reasons to be wary.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment, mulling things over in her head. Balthazar was everything she’d ever dreamed about and despite the conditioning of her upbringing, she was desperate to believe in him. Gaze settling on the doorway where she’d last seen him, she resolved to bite the bullet and take the risk. If Balthazar was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear, then Cherie would be in for one giant fall, but she knew she had to take the chance. To turn away from him, and the opportunity to develop whatever was sparking between them now, would be crazy.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books