The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

bedroom away from the chaos upstairs. The only bedroom in
which we’d have ultimate privacy. My pulse quickened as we
reached the back door and he pulled out a key to open the
room from the outside.
“I stay here when I’m in town,” he explained. “Most of us
do, unless you sign up too late and you’re forced to stay in
one of the other villas.”
“I think it’s cute that they travel with their friends.”
“I think it says a lot about their state of loneliness,” he
said.
“I guess I’ve never thought about that.”
He closed the door behind us. The room was dark, and
when he walked over to the other door and pushed the
button to black out the windows, it was darker still and I
found myself blinking rapidly to adjust to it. He pressed
another button and a light came on, but even that was
extremely dim, just enough for us not to bump into
anything, but not enough to actually see clearly. I was
grateful for it. He walked over to me, his shoes tapping
against the hardwood as he did, and I braced myself for . . .
something. Instead, he stood right in front of me and
brought a hand up to my face, cupping my jaw as he looked
at me.
“You’re nervous.”
“I am.” I swallowed. “I don’t normally do this.”
“That’s okay.” His lips formed a slow smile. “We’ll take it
slow.”
“Should . . . should I take my mask o ?” I whispered.
“Do you want to?”
“Are you going to take yours o ?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” I let out a shuddering breath. “I think we should.”
He didn’t hesitate. His mask came o immediately, and
even though I couldn’t fully see him, I could fully appreciate