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    Summary

    Breath caught in her throat, palms still cupping Clorinde’s face, Navia whispers, “You ought to have a reward right? You bloodied your hands for me, Clorinde.”

    This close, Navia can see Clorinde’s pupils dilate, the new blackness of her eyes drowning Navia in a suffocating desire. Still, Clorinde remains stoic, her hands resting on the arms of the leather chair. Navia has half the mind to grab them and place them on her hips, but that would ruin the fun of the game they play.

    So she leans closer, lips almost touching, the warmth of Clorinde’s breath on her skin like licks of flame. Barely above a whisper, Navia says, “I owe you everything, you know that? You killed for me.”

    or,

    Neither of them are good people, but there are still nuances to any transaction.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
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