Nocticadia

by Keri Lake

No one touched what belonged to me without repercussions. My class. My requirements. My student. Without a doubt, Lilia Vespertine was going to be a massive headache. But she was my headache.

“Is that a threat?” “Yes.” One step forward backed me against the shelf behind me, and he threw out his hand, creating something of a cage. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

“The wealthy possess an insatiable appetite for the rare and priceless. They stare because you’re the only thing worth staring at.”

His dark chuckle tickled the back of my neck, and his eyes held a ruthless glint that slid through my bones. “My, you are a wicked little moth.”

When she’d arrived to the gala the night before, though, looking like a walking aphrodisiac topped with whipped cream, and catching the eye of every swinging dick she passed, something had snapped inside of me. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. Calling her beautiful was like calling the sun lukewarm. She’d blazed like the hottest part of a flame in that dress. And fuck me, I’d felt the heat.

The masochist reared her ugly head, swallowing his attention like a love-sick fool. Because even if I knew better, even if I knew it was all a lie, it felt fucking good.

So hungry to learn, and I longed to be the one to feed her every spoonful of depravity she craved.

How could I share an entire campus with her, knowing she could fall in love at any moment with some inexperienced cad who wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a girl like her. The very thought sprouted cruel and vile schemes, like keeping her in one of the cells below. Caging her like one of my little moths.

if fucking her meant an eternity in hell, I’d welcome damnation with a goddamn smile.

“And if you think, for one second, I’m letting you jog around here in the dark in those tiny fucking shorts, looking like a midnight snack, you’ve grossly underestimated just how much of a prick I can be.”

He kissed me ruthlessly. Plundered angrily. And he groaned and bit my lip, digging his fingers into my flesh with unflinching possession. And jealousy. God, the jealousy beat through me in punishing fury, as he held me to his face and ate the breath from mouth.

“Why bring me with you?” The hardness in his eyes softened only a bit, and he reached out to thumb the blood from my jaw. “You’re better off with me.”

“Had to keep my first successful specimens. Naming them was brilliant, on your part.” “I told you.” “And I’m telling you to turn over and spread your knees,” he whispered.

“That I would kill for you without a beat of hesitation, or remorse. And yet, at the same time, I could be reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash without you. I’m weak for you, Lilia.”

He taught me passion and courage, and to seize what I wanted by the teeth. And in return, I taught him to feel again.