Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“The Lion was methodical with this one,” Mirage said as he went through the continuous, mindless motions of pulling Grace’s skin together and then squeezing the stapler handle. “He stopped just before rupturing your small bowel or nicking a major blood vessel.”
Grace’s tensed abdomen was his only reaction.
“I was doing some research while in the air.” Mirage couldn’t change the somberness in his tone. “I wanted to know exactly what kind of masters we just encountered.”
The air was thick and oppressive between them, a ghostly presence shrouding them like a fog that wouldn’t lift.
“Eriktor, code name Omega, and Firuz Nikahd, code name Lion, fought us with ancient Chinese kung fu styles.”
Mirage didn’t glance up to make eye contact. He couldn’t, not with the reality of their near death storming his mind.
He applied the final bandages while he concluded what he’d learned.
“The Imperial Tiger and Fanged Snake style takes decades to master. Most of the training begins during the adolescent years.”
Grace grunted.
“They are considered legendary. Says the Tiger is the largest, most powerful, and deadliest of all animal styles. He’s sheer ferocity. His bare hands strong enough to tear through Kevlar.”
Mirage fingered the clean tear through Grace’s trench.
“You fought the deadliest man in the world, Grace,” Mirage whispered through the pain in his chest.
Grace sat up and took his hand.
They both knew the fight could’ve resulted in their deaths.
With their hands clasped, the deep lines etched in Grace’s forehead made Mirage touch his brow to his.
“If Lion wasn’t so disciplined…if he would’ve…” Mirage couldn’t finish the fucking sentence. That’s how terrified he was of losing Grace. “I wouldn’t’ve hesitated to follow you into the next life.”
Grace surged forward and slammed his mouth over his.
Mirage grunted in surprise but quickly recovered, kissing Grace back and infusing all the fear he had locked inside.
The kiss was fervent, almost primal.
When they had to stop to breathe, Grace gripped the back of Mirage’s neck and held their foreheads tight together, gasping into each other’s mouths.
Grace ran his stubbled cheek over Mirage’s, scraping his jaw with roughness until his lips were against his ear.
“Matthew,” Grace rumbled.
Mirage swallowed a pound of shock. He hadn’t heard his birth name spoken in years. It wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
What Grace had to say wasn’t for Mirage. It wasn’t for the man of illusions. It was for the man he was born as. It was for the son of an honorable man.
Grace’s raspy timbre made Mirage’s heart race. He could hear fear and anguish in his tone.
“Listen to me…and know this.”
Mirage wrapped his arms around his partner’s back, pulling him as close as he could, wanting to hear every rare sound from Grace’s mouth.
“All of my soul, or what remains of it…belongs to you. You’re the keeper of my fractured heart. Not even the deadliest man in the world can take me from you.”
Grace’s voice and declaration were so powerful that they lingered long after he finished speaking.
Grace
Grace relished the comfort of Mirage’s fist clutching the back of his jacket as they exited the elevator to their floor.
He’d given Mirage what he’d needed downstairs. His confession was true, and he hoped it would put him at ease.
They had come close to death, but the universe had granted them more time.
What’d happened to them earlier wasn’t a loss. Following Meridian’s lead, he believed they’d made the right decision by releasing Woyashi to the Order and coming back to headquarters to do some reconnaissance.
Where the fuck did they start?
Tomorrow.
Tonight would be theirs.
Mirage closed the minimal distance between them and rested his lips on the back of Grace’s neck. His breath was warm as he wrapped his strong arms around his waist.
Grace took a moment to recline against Mirage’s chest, allowing his calm heart to beat against his back.
“Face me,” Mirage ordered as he loosened his hold.
Grace turned and looked down at him. It was only a moment before he closed his eyes.
Sometimes, Mirage was hard to gaze upon for too long.
Grace’s shirt was still open, and Mirage ran his palms along the large bandage on his abdomen.
The cut wasn’t painful, nor did it cause him any discomfort. It was a nuisance more than anything.
Mirage traced the outline of his abs, igniting erotic sensations the higher his caresses went.
When Mirage reached his shoulders, he started with soothing pressure before kneading in places that craved relief.
The rhythmic motions of those skilled hands relaxed the last traces of his stress.
His cock was getting hard, and so was Mirage’s. He could feel the thick bulge pressing into his upper thigh.
Grace groaned, tilting his head back for more, allowing the day’s events to fade to black.
Mirage cradled his jaw with both hands, tilting Grace’s head until he was staring into those soft cashmere-gray eyes.
I need you so fuckin’ bad right now. I want you in my bed all night, and this time, don’t leave before the sun rises.