I couldn’t help it. My body demanded I do something. Shoulders easing, I closed my eyes and ran my hands up the smooth expanse of his back. He paused in surprise, then his hands slid down my sides to grasp my waist. The muscles under his silk shirt bunched beneath my fingers. Reaching upward, my nails played with the hair at the nape of his neck. The soft strands had a uniform color that you can only find in a box, and I realized he dyed his hair.

“Why are you helping me?” I breathed, fingering the black chain about his neck. The body-warm links were the same pattern as the bracelets about Ivy’s ankle.

I felt his muscles shift, tightening with pain instead of desire. “He said I was his scion,” he said as he hid his face in my hair to hide his moving lips from the unseen camera—at least, that’s what I told myself. “He said I would be with him forever, and he betrayed me for Ivy. She doesn’t deserve him.” Hurt stained his voice. “She doesn’t even love him.”

My eyes closed. I would never understand vampires. Not knowing why I did, I sent my fingers gently through his hair, soothing him as his breath caressed my demon scar into mounting surges demanding to be met. Common sense told me to stop, but he was hurt, and I’d been betrayed like that, too.

Kist’s breath faltered as I sent the hint of my fingernails under his ear. Making a low guttural sound, he pressed closer, his heat obvious through the thin material of my shirt. His tension became deeper, more dangerous. “My God,” he whispered, his voice a husky thread. “Ivy was right. Leaving you unbound and free of compulsion would be like fucking a tiger.”

“Watch your mouth,” I said breathily, his hair tickling my face. “I don’t like that kind of language.” I was already dead. Why not enjoy my last few moments?

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently, his voice shocking in its submissiveness even as he forced his lips to mine. My head hit the back of the elevator with the force of his kiss. I pushed back, unafraid.

“Don’t call me that,” I mumbled around his mouth, remembering what Ivy had said about him playing the subordinate. Maybe I could survive a submissive vampire.

His weight pressing harder into me, he pulled his lips from mine. I met his eyes—his faultless blue eyes—studying them with the breathless understanding that I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but praying that whatever it was, it would happen.