Tempted by Deception (Deception Trilogy #2) by Rina Kent

I’m yanked out of my haze when I realize that he just fucked me without a condom. Holy shit. How could I not think about it until now?

I’ve been on the pill for years to regulate my period, so that will protect me from pregnancy, but there’s something worse than that nowadays.

Adrian releases my hair, and before I can say anything, he picks me up. I squeal, arms looping around his neck to stop myself from falling.

He walks with absolute nonchalance toward my bedroom. His pants are hanging open, but other than that, everything else is in perfect order. His face is hard and unwelcome, and one would never think he’d reached his peak of pleasure just now. However, he feels more relaxed than when we first arrived. His muscles aren’t filled with tension and his hold feels a bit tender.

“You didn’t use a condom,” I murmur.

His gaze slides to mine and I feel cornered in it. “So?”

“STDs. Ever heard of them?”

“I haven’t been sexually active for months and I’ve always used condoms, so I’m clean.”

I trap my lip beneath my bottom teeth, my mind strangely going to the part where he hasn’t been sexually active for months. Who was his last victim? Someone like me?

That makes my skin crawl and I quickly shoo it away.

“Why didn’t you use a condom just now?”

He pauses. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“Yes, am I not allowed to?”

“No, it just seems that you’re the type who would never forget.”

His eyes ease. “Correct.”

“So why did you?”

“I wish I knew.”

The quiet in his tone gives me pause as I ask, “What if I weren’t on birth control?”

“You obviously are, so why fuss about it?”

The nonchalant way he speaks bothers me. It’s like he really wouldn’t care even if I wasn’t on birth control. Does he truly lack any sort of remorse? Would he throw me out and regard the baby as collateral damage if I were to get pregnant?

“Would you like to have a shower first?” He pulls me out of my chaotic thoughts.

“First? Why? What’s going to happen after?”

“I’m taking you again.” He stops in the middle of my room, nuzzling his nose against my hair and inhaling me in. “Fucking roses.”

Goosebumps cover my skin and my thighs clench, because even though I haven’t come down from the first high, the need for another one hits me with a slamming force.

Still, I go the logical route. “I…I thought it was a one-time thing.”

“You thought wrong, Lenochka.” His voice is as calm as the devil, and just as lethal.

And I know, I just know that my life will never be the same again.





13





Adrian





I pull myself from beside Lia.

She’s been sound asleep for the past hour. At first, her body was relaxed, slightly pushing into mine, almost snuggling, but then she slipped back into her rigid posture.

The death posture.

It seems like the norm for her, some sort of a habit she developed over the years and eventually fell into subconsciously. People usually find their comfort zone, their self-made box, and stuff themselves in it.

But that’s the thing about Lia. Although a part of her is confined, tucked away from the world, another completely different part climbs over the stage and flies as if attempting to touch the skies.

She’s a contradiction through and through. One I’ll attempt to dissect inch by fucking inch.

I watch her for a beat, taking in her soft features, her full lower lip tipped by a tiny teardrop in the middle, and her flushed cheeks.

They’ve had the same color since I fucked her against the table. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, in the entrance, as if I had no control over myself.

But that’s the thing. I lacked my steel-like control. I didn’t have the will to stop, not after what happened in the club.

I was still fuming with pent-up frustration for not strangling that fucker who put his hands on her, who didn’t only touch her, but also did it intimately and then threatened her.

In that moment, I never wanted to see life leave someone’s eyes as much as I craved to strangle it out of him.

Despite my background, I don’t really have a strong bloodlust like Damien, or even Kirill and Vladimir. Killing someone is merely a means to an end for me. I don’t take pleasure in the act; however, I’m not repulsed by it either.

It’s just a necessity.

But that blond fucker? Yeah, I would’ve enjoyed every second of the air leaving his lungs.

If someone were to ask me what came over me back then, I wouldn’t know either. One moment, I was watching from the shadows—like a stalker, as Lia likes to point out—and the next, I was seeing red as I never have in my life.

I’m not the type to see red. I’ve always believed anger was beneath me—it’s an emotion that will just cloud my vision and deter me from making the right decision. In fact, aside from when Aunt Annika died, I don’t think I’ve ever felt strong emotions. After that, all the anger and the irrationality that came with it seemed to vanish out of my system to be replaced by a cool head.

Until that scene at the club.

Until all I could see was fucking red.