HER SWEET BLOOD

sent

ly opened her eyes: that she was bare, her body ached from everywhere,

he head. It was fruition that she had been so intoxicated last night that she ended up giving herself to s

ning. No! This cou

h

o

first one. Unhurriedly, Grace opened her eyes to thin slits, peeking around the room. Okay, not her small bed. Absolutely not her bed. Not her room eithe

hird thing hit her. She

ld her closed, hugging her against an o

and closed her mouth

f unnerving predicament before, in

ost their jobs. And yes, being a friendly, reasonable and hard-working secretary with no-boyfriend-since-birth, she was the prodigy of the Hudson Hotel executive department, working there sin

t did it

ning, lunging away from the mattress and staring at the man still lying on it, half of his face

ttering as she eyed at the bizarre runic swirls and lines of unusual dark and red tattoos crisscrossing

e heck

rtless stranger. She was bare, and she honestly recalled nothing. Her pulse thu

tell her this wasn’t true. Please tell her she hadn't just slept with a stranger while t

the terror rising, her head swirling as she pushed her fingers through her hair. She froze, her eyes unexpe

on

it off and pulling as the panic lanced through her. She got her fingers unde

yes w

loody

? Had she been assaulted? Whatever the horrible case scenario her brain had been diving

o inked just above her cleavage, while a dark sort or vein crossed it

a series of lightning bolts flickering through her mind. The liquors

k in his eyes and that smirk that encouraged all sorts of poor consequences. She recalle

the

the middle scene, a beautiful semi-dark stage with a massive throne-like seat, his hands on her, his lips so close to her. Grace thought of the kiss, and for one second, she reme

k to their rituals, their weird matrimonial sort of procession, and the old man who looked like a priest but she knew wasn't. She remembered saying certain words and the

cloudy mist on her brain, like it was there but we

cult sort of thing happened to her last night. It

like it was real? Lik

o the hell w

the silly idea. This wasn't a medieval era. The thought was as ridiculous as the tattoo o

thing as she felt dizzy. Because right

d stranger lying naked in the same bed she’d just been lying in with him. No, not a stranger, she thought as it all came back to her in a horrendous coil. Not a stranger at all. The man lying in bed—th

rned her about. The kind she doesn't want to wake up naked next to. The wicked billionaire with a bad stature as massive as his dick. The one who alleged

he silky bed was a

at and one m

not married to this man? It was just a thing that t

I do?" groaning to hersel

ably already forgotten her name. But damn! She gave her virginity t

g into her chest. She’d gotten intoxicated once... one freaking time... She’d woken up with all of th

God. It wasn't a real marriage ceremony. At least she could breathe in now. No ring. No marriage. No huge

er face and pushed her fingers into her hair. She took a deep breath, attempting to st

cle a man could get

to cover herself as she turned a

She wh

eady did sweetheart, so

eyes b

nbelievably d

smirking at her, and very much letting his

filth

to you too, sweetheart

, grabbing it off the bed against her body as

out of yo

amorous, perfect, muscles flexed, his abs rippling as he smirked that alluring, arrogant smile at her. Grace's eyes lowered, and when she saw the flimsy

t beheld or taste

n itch under that stare, a quiver taunting through her as his gazes deli

d, cringing slightly as his fingers hurried to r

yes w

ody coffee. Le

um- d

cheeks going glossy pink as she gul

you know-" sh

hat, litt

e

she nibbled her lip. "Di

ntil a deep laughter broke out

ark eyes glinting a wicked excitement. "You me

little sweet pain down there, but she wanted to know. To know how dum

ill you?" She blurted out, h

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