Page 81 of Caressed By Sin
“None were you and none will ever be.” I leaned down and kissed those soft lips, enjoying the way her tongue entered my mouth.
Will you ever understand how I feel?
Trembling, she pulled away.
I stifled a snarl and glared at her.
“I can’t have this discussion with you right now. I need to focus on getting the Boto Brothers.” She backed away from me. “No more kissing or touching until we get them.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me forget everything.”
I smiled.
She sighed. “Let’s go over my possible plan. I go to their yacht. I pretend I’m their package and get close enough to bite one. Then, you—”
“Absolutely not.” I guided her away from the ramp and into the shadows of a boat.
“Azar, if they see you, they may run or think something is off.” She held out her hands. “Am I wrong or right?”
I frowned.
“Hunting Demons has taught me one thing, when they're aroused, they are at their weakest moment.” She crossed her arms around those supple breasts. “I’m going to need to get close to them in order to arouse them.”
I laughed. “You won’t need to get close to them. They’ll be aroused once they breathe you in.”
“But, regardless, I get themarousedsome way or other—”
“No. They’re not to touch you.” Power rippled under my skin in waves.
Fatou opened her mouth.
I forced myself to calm down.
“Why can’t they touch me, Azar? Are they that dangerous?”
“No. I am,” I said through clenched teeth. “And if they touch you, there will be nothing left to take to Adae.”
Her heartbeats increased, slamming against her chest. A shade of dark red tinted the tips of her pointy ears.
I’m making her nervous.
I exhaled and focused on soothing thoughts.
“The only reason the Boto Brothers are hard to catch is because they stay in a group. None of Adae’s scout sorcerers are powerful enough. They’re not you,” I admitted. “But, together, you and I can easily take them.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
Her heartbeats calmed.
“There's no need for a diversion plan with them.” I led Fatou across the ramp and followed the scent. “Besides, I'm more worried about why their smell is off.”
We continued forward.
Finally, I tracked the scent to a large yacht that had seen better days, its grey paint peeled off in strips like scabs. The name “Endless Pleasure” was emblazoned across the hull in cursive. Even the letters appeared ragged. I could tell that they had once been gilded but was now tarnished to an almost unrecognizable green.
