His eyes fly open, the abject terror of the nightmare lingering in his gaze as it slams into mine. In the next breath, I’m pulled under Kaiden’s muscular frame. My ribs scream in protest at the jolt. He looks manic—gold and crimson crashing in the tumultuous obsidian sea.
“You’re okay. You’re alive. You’re here,” he repeats like a mantra as though he’s trying to reassure himself that I’m not a figment of his imagination. His trembling fingers coast over every inch of my body, his eyes glistening through a curtain of unshed tears. Amidst whole body jitters, he envelops me in a hug like I’m the only thing tethering him to sanity.
A few seconds later, Kaiden’s lips crash into mine. There’s nothing soft about the way he kisses me. It’s desperate. Bruising. Consuming. He sucks the soul right out of my body as his lips and tongue move against mine. Without preamble, he pops off. Only to appear standing at the foot of the bed, startling me. His chest heaves. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have jumped you—”
“It’s oka—”
I have never seen Kaiden so distraught. His next words pour out of him in an incoherent mess as he fists his hair, cutting me off. “No, it’s not, not after what you went through. I just…I wasn’t thinking. Please, Iris, forgive me.”
Jumping out of the bed, I stride to him, ignoring the explosion of pain at the swift move. I place my hands on his jaw and lock our gazes. “I’m okay. And I love when you touch and kiss me as if it’s your last time. I wantyouas much as you want me. You hear me?”
He rests his forehead against mine, his next words nothing more than a gravely rasp. “I need to hold you.”
Wordlessly, I take his hand in mine and lead him back to the bed. We lie down, and Kaiden drapes me across his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask as I trace imaginary circles over his chest tattoos.
“Not necessarily,” Kaiden replies. He sighs, though, and after a while, his voice fills the air. “When I was a kid, I used to get nightmares about the times my father tortured me. I told you about my shattered hope that my mother would eventually come to rescue me from his clutches. She took the appearance of a mortal woman and seduced my father. Only for her to abandon me on the steps of the same facility wheremy father locked me up. He tortured me daily, calling me an abomination, telling me over and over again that I should have never been born because I ruined his life. Even when I escaped, he followed me into my nightmares.” We sit in silence for a few seconds. “I used to think those nightmares were the worst thing my mind could torment me with—until tonight. Tonight, I dreamed about you.” His voice is rough, anguished. “It was a replay of the moment I found you lying in the alley at the back of the club…only your heart was not beating anymore.” His arms tighten around me as he expels the air in his lungs.
Why does he care so much about me?
Lifting my head, I take in his striking features—soot-black lashes fanning across angular cheekbones, full lips turned down, forehead scrunched in anguish. Unable to resist the impulse, I close the space between us. Kaiden’s expression instantly softens when our lips meet.
It’s the first time I have initiated a kiss between us. Kaiden groans in my mouth. He kisses me like he’s drowning, and I’m the last breath of air left in the atmosphere. I return the sentiment, and we get lost in each other until the first rays of thesunrise trickle in through the windows.
4
Iris
The sky glows in a kaleidoscope of colors. It creates a bruised background for the dipping sun as I descend the stairs to the first floor of the penthouse.
I woke up half an hour ago, alone this time, and after I called my aunt, I shuffled to the bathroom, wincing at how tender the area between my legs still was. An array of brand-spanking-new women’s toiletries greeted me from the counter—the packaging looked so luxurious I was afraid to touch anything. After making myself presentable, I made my way to the dressing room to grab another one of Kaiden’s T-shirts. However, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw that half of the room was now filled with women’s clothes—rows upon rows of designer dresses, shirts, pants, jeans, athletic wear, and all types of shoes, from stilettosto sneakers and flip-flops. Let’s not talk about the luxurious, color-organized lacy lingerie. Flustered, I grabbed a pair of seamless panties and one of Kaiden’s black button-downs and dashed out of there as if hellhounds were nipping at my heels.
My eyes land on Kaiden’s spectacular back when I reach the last step. He’s dressed in his usual classy black attire, his strong, tattooed forearms flexing as he fixes a plate at the kitchen counter. All the moments we shared in his bedroom—consumed by pleasure—replay in my mind, and I flush all over.
“Why did you get out of bed? I was going to bring these to you,” he says as he turns to look at me, a taco in his hand. “How are you feeling?”
I lean my hip on the cold marble of the bar. “I’m good. My ribs still hurt like a motherfucker, but that thing Sam made me drink is amazing. I can’t believe how well it worked despite the disgusting taste. The bruises are already fading.”
From the bag on the counter, I notice he ordered tacos fromTu Tía Loca, my favorite Mexican restaurant in Ashville. It’s a hole-in-the-wall type of joint, and the food is exquisite.
“Go sit on the couch; I’ll bring these to you.”
“I can eat at the bar,” I say and pull out the bar stool closest to me. I’m always messy when eating tacos, and I don’t want to ruin his cream couch, which I’m sure costs more than the GDP of a small country.
“The bar stool is too stiff for you to sit comfortably, given the state of your ribs. Couch, now,” he commands in a gruff tone with no room for argument.
“Fine, but if any sauce gets on it, it’s on you,” I huff before striding to the couch, gingerly taking a seat.
Kaiden joins me a few minutes later, then hands me a few napkins and a shrimp taco-filled plate. He pops off, only to rematerialize a few seconds later with a glass of Sam’s healing concoction in one hand and another taco-filled plate in theother.
His satisfied gaze roves over my body languidly as he places the glass on the coffee table, then his eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t like the clothes I picked out for you? Don’t get me wrong, you look sexy as fuck, and I only want to see you wearing my shirts when we’re at home, but if you want, we can get other clothes,” he says before lifting a taco to his mouth to take a huge bite.
When we’re at home?
“The clothes are beautiful, but Kaiden, it’s too much. All the skincare and makeup products. You shouldn’t have spent so much money. I can’t accept any of—”
“Don’t tell me how to spend my money, Iris. I wanted to get the best for you, so I did. Plus, I’m richer than God; what I spent on the clothes and toiletries didn’t even scratch the surface of my finances.”
Warmth filters through me, but there’s so much to unpack there. He’s acting as if we’re in a long-term relationship and we live together. His words imply that we have a future together, but that’s impossible; I’m a hellseeker, and he’s a demon. There’s no future for us. However, too quickly I realize that’s exactly what I want.
