death-s-storm

When he reached his own room again, he found Khloe curled up on his bed, asleep. He stood over her, watching her sleep peacefully for a few moments before taking a deep breath and moving to the other side of the bed. He sat down on top of the covers next to her and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He withdrew a leather bond journal from the nightstand drawer and tried to push Hecate__ words from his mind.Khloe is yours to deal with.

They took form in a bedroom, Khloe realized with a scowl. He noticed and gave her a sideways grin. Arrogant ass. Laugh it up, demon.

She sagged against the wall, finding it hard to breathe. It wasn__ from fear. Gods, she hadn__ been that turned on in years. If that was her punishment, she was going to be lippy a little more often

Are you always so mistrusting?_ he said, lifting a brow.__hen my escort is a demon, yes.

Hands on hips, she cast him a narrowed-eye gaze. __ove.___ou__e not leaving.___nd you__e not stopping me.

His power reached out to her like physical touch of a lover, sending tingles over her skin. His sculptured body moved in a sensual, yet deadly manner. Her hands itched to touch him, to feel his warm skin under her palms. She closed her eyes to stop the urge to go to him, shivered, and cursed her body for responding to him.

He made a sound close to a growl before speaking. __hy do you resist my assistance?__he stopped walking and faced him. __ecause I don't like you.