Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1) by Kyleigh Castronaro Page B
Authors: Kyleigh Castronaro
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up the bottom of the robe, her motions careful to avoid knocking the concealed stake from its resting spot and she lifted it up high enough as she turned around. She doubted they were looking for weapons as much as admiring the thong shape of this awful outfit she was wearing.
“Alright, go in.” Lefty opened the door for her and she dropped the robe, tugging it tightly around her as she walked past them. They whispered something to each other, but their practiced tones were deaf to a mortal ear like hers.
CHAPTER 8
His bedroom wasn’t exactly what she expected, but then she hadn’t considered what to expect from a vampire’s bedroom. Firstly, there was a real bed and not a coffin. She didn’t know if that was more disturbing than the other might have been. The shades were opened to let the full moon’s light waft into the room like soft waves illuminating the otherwise dark and rich room.
There was a collection of items littered about that spoke of how long he had been alive for. She wanted to ask him about the lives he had lived and about the things he had seen.
She fingered the stake in her pocket as she moved to the window and stared thoughtfully out it. If she ran how far would she get before they caught up to her? Not long, she reasoned, she’d seen how fast he’d moved yesterday to catch the falling vase. There were so many questions she had but every time she was around him her mind became muddled and confused. She forgot so easily what it was she wanted from him. In fact, she forgot herself entirely sometimes. That could be an effect of something he was doing to her with his compulsion.
The door opened behind her and she turned sharply, not having expected him back so soon. The surprise registered on both their faces as they stared down at each other.
“Isabelle,” he said as though he’d anticipated her all along, closing the door behind him and moving into the room, a vague look of interest on his face.
“Nero,” she returned, turning back to the window afraid to make eye contact with him.
“What brings you to my chambers unannounced?”
She took a deep breath, not naive enough to think he hadn’t heard her as she let the robe go a little bit feeling its silkiness slide off her shoulders and dip low on her back.
Nero’s eyes devoured each inch of milky flesh she revealed under the material, but there was something wrong in her submissiveness. This was not how he wanted this moment to go. The fight couldn’t truly be gone already; perhaps she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.
“Are you here for sex then?” He teased her, making her burn hot with embarrassment as if this crass seduction wasn’t embarrassing enough.
“Is that what you want from me?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and there was something predatory in his gaze, it made her shiver but not out of fear.
Nary a breath had passed her lips and he was suddenly behind her. His hands were ice, ghosting along the curve of her exposed spine. She felt her body shudder from the sensation of his fingertips, so gentle and considering. She didn’t even notice she was holding her breath, her complete attention attuned to the closeness of his body and the longing she suddenly felt throb through her.
The danger and threat he presented was intoxicating, but more so than that it was the extreme control he exerted over her. She could tell every little motion and movement he made was carefully calculated and nothing was out of his control. She wanted to be the reason he was out of control. But then she also wished to drive this stake through him.
Shaking herself from her confusion she turned slowly into his arms, looking up at him while his eyes roamed the display below him. The way he watched her was different from the devouring gaze of his guards outside the door. To Nero, she wasn’t a meal to be consumed but she could see in his eyes she was the chef. There was power in that role, her ability to create what he wanted but
“Alright, go in.” Lefty opened the door for her and she dropped the robe, tugging it tightly around her as she walked past them. They whispered something to each other, but their practiced tones were deaf to a mortal ear like hers.
CHAPTER 8
His bedroom wasn’t exactly what she expected, but then she hadn’t considered what to expect from a vampire’s bedroom. Firstly, there was a real bed and not a coffin. She didn’t know if that was more disturbing than the other might have been. The shades were opened to let the full moon’s light waft into the room like soft waves illuminating the otherwise dark and rich room.
There was a collection of items littered about that spoke of how long he had been alive for. She wanted to ask him about the lives he had lived and about the things he had seen.
She fingered the stake in her pocket as she moved to the window and stared thoughtfully out it. If she ran how far would she get before they caught up to her? Not long, she reasoned, she’d seen how fast he’d moved yesterday to catch the falling vase. There were so many questions she had but every time she was around him her mind became muddled and confused. She forgot so easily what it was she wanted from him. In fact, she forgot herself entirely sometimes. That could be an effect of something he was doing to her with his compulsion.
The door opened behind her and she turned sharply, not having expected him back so soon. The surprise registered on both their faces as they stared down at each other.
“Isabelle,” he said as though he’d anticipated her all along, closing the door behind him and moving into the room, a vague look of interest on his face.
“Nero,” she returned, turning back to the window afraid to make eye contact with him.
“What brings you to my chambers unannounced?”
She took a deep breath, not naive enough to think he hadn’t heard her as she let the robe go a little bit feeling its silkiness slide off her shoulders and dip low on her back.
Nero’s eyes devoured each inch of milky flesh she revealed under the material, but there was something wrong in her submissiveness. This was not how he wanted this moment to go. The fight couldn’t truly be gone already; perhaps she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.
“Are you here for sex then?” He teased her, making her burn hot with embarrassment as if this crass seduction wasn’t embarrassing enough.
“Is that what you want from me?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and there was something predatory in his gaze, it made her shiver but not out of fear.
Nary a breath had passed her lips and he was suddenly behind her. His hands were ice, ghosting along the curve of her exposed spine. She felt her body shudder from the sensation of his fingertips, so gentle and considering. She didn’t even notice she was holding her breath, her complete attention attuned to the closeness of his body and the longing she suddenly felt throb through her.
The danger and threat he presented was intoxicating, but more so than that it was the extreme control he exerted over her. She could tell every little motion and movement he made was carefully calculated and nothing was out of his control. She wanted to be the reason he was out of control. But then she also wished to drive this stake through him.
Shaking herself from her confusion she turned slowly into his arms, looking up at him while his eyes roamed the display below him. The way he watched her was different from the devouring gaze of his guards outside the door. To Nero, she wasn’t a meal to be consumed but she could see in his eyes she was the chef. There was power in that role, her ability to create what he wanted but
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