Free Sweet Desire (Tales of Dystopian Decadence Book 2) by Finley Blake Page B

told me he was going to leave me to take part in the fight himself, and that it would happen very, very soon.
    “What am I going to do?” I asked. I could do anything he wanted of me – patch up wounded rebels, carry messages, even hold a gun. Hell, I could use one if I really had to…
    “Nothing.”
    I looked back up at him. “ Nothing ?”
    “Of course. You may have quite a few dogs in this fight, but you won’t be up there on the front lines with me. It’s too dangerous.”
    “Front lines!” I yelped.
    “Calm down, Violet.” He moved to sit next to me and pulled me into his embrace. My ear rested against his chest, where the steady thump of his heart did nothing to comfort me. “There will be a war. Yes, there has to be a war. It’s already started. In fact, it never really ended.”
    “But you lost the war last time.”
    “We had powerful enemies who knew how to strike at my heart last time. This time, the people are seeing that they themselves have the power. They are the ones who decide, and they want me back as president.” With one hand, he stroked my hair. “I know it’s a dangerous game, but don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
    My fingers dug into his shirt and I tried to stop my heart from racing. “Will you go back to the states? Do you plan to leave me here where it’s safe?”
    “I haven’t quite figured everything out yet, but when I do, I will tell you everything.”
    That wasn’t comforting, but I decided it was the most I could expect out of him.
    For now.
    He pulled me into his arms and, for that moment, I felt the kind of warmth and security I had always wanted. Even though the future was uncertain, even though we had only just begun, I tried to appreciate that moment.
    “Wait…” I drew back and glared at him. “I just realized how damn old you are.”
    “How old I am?”
    “You’re 46 now, aren’t you? Don’t you think you’re a little, well, old to be fighting with a bunch of rabble-rousing rebels?”
    “Excuse me?” Nicholas’ eyes went so wide, I giggled. “Seriously, Violet, try saying that again ten times fast.”
    “Rabble-rousing rebels, rabble-rousing rebels, rab–”
    His mouth slanted down against mine, silencing me with a crushing kiss. “You kids today,” he growled when we finally parted. “What are you – 20-years-old?”
    “I’m 22, thank you very much.”
    “Well, Little Miss 22, let me show you a thing or two about what a man my age can do, especially when he’s been living without sex since before you could talk.” Nicholas rose from the couch, lifting me with him. “You are going to go upstairs, take off your clothes, and kneel beside the bed for me.”
    I shivered in his arms, not from the cold, but from those orders. With a nod, I waited until he placed me on the floor, and then walked upstairs to comply. The warm floorboards were hard beneath my knees, but I waited without question, naked and alone in his room. Or had it become our room now?
    When Nicholas arrived, I kept my eyes lowered as he walked around me. It was the first time he had done that – really assessed me and stood silent over me. Only this was not his brooding, petulant silence. There was a different quality to this calm moment as he stood beside me, his hand on my head, and his thighs at my shoulder. A blush suffused my face as I realized all I had to do was turn my head for my lips to make contact with his crotch…
    “Do you trust me, Violet?” he asked.
    “Yes.” The answer was low, nearly a whisper.
    “Why?”
    “Because I don’t think the headmistress would match me with someone I couldn’t trust.” It was a simple way of thinking. Naïve too, especially after my initial reservations about the match.
    He let out a chuckle. “I don’t think you realize yet what a schemer your headmistress is, but you are right. She knows what she’s doing for both her courtesans and her clients. However, I want you to change the reason for your