“Yes!”
“You need me to stick my cock in you?”
“Yes,” she cried again. “Please.”
“Say it.”
Her gaze implored him.
“That was a fucking order, Dear, say it.”
“I need…”
“Go on.”
“I need you inside me.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“Glad to hear it.” He moved her hands above her head and held them there. “I’m really fucking glad to hear that, Alexa,” he groaned. “Because when it happens, it’s going to hurt.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Desire surged through him, erupting power through his systems. He looked into her eyes and saw pain and desperation within them. He saw what he often caught on his own face when he was alone: misery. Misery for wanting something you can’t or shouldn’t have, shame for being unable to be a better person, and the acceptance that you’re a little fucked up in the head.
Alexa had secrets. He knew that now.
He wanted to know them… He wanted to fuck them out of her.
Hysterian reached up and pulled at her half-fallen bun. Rich black hair, silken and slightly wavy, fell over her shoulders and down her back. No longer was it stiff and unnatural. He’d added sweet-smelling scents to the dye, scents that he enjoyed.
Beautiful.He slid his gloved fingers through a strand at her shoulder. Alexa Dear had beautiful hair. Long, soft, and easy to grab.
To yank.
“Please fuck me. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” There was pain in her voice. A lot of pain.
His eyes found hers. He would love to do just that. But couldn’t. If she just looked at him hard enough, she’d see that his entire body was growing damp and that his undersuit was sticking to him.
“I don’t want you going near Raul again,” he said.
Her brow creased. “I work with him—we share a room.”
“Not anymore.”
Hysterian straightened, and Alexa rose on her elbows. She reached between her legs when his hand left, pulling at the clothes bunched up there. He’d tried hard to pierce her cunt…
“Where am I going to sleep then? My things?” she asked.
“You can stay in my quarters.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Hysterian backed up another step, putting space between them. He continued to watch her hand between her legs as she adjusted herself. “It’s clean. I don’t use the bed.”
“Your…quarters?”
Her hand finally fell away. She closed her legs with a sad moan.
“Yes,” he snapped. “My quarters.” He pivoted away before he attacked her again. Because all he wanted to do was give in and take what he craved, regardless of the damage that would cause.
