She shook her head.
“Do you think I’m going to fucking hurt you? I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled.
“I can’t help it...”
Some of the light faded from his eyes. “Whatever shit happened to you, Dear, I’m going to want to know all about it someday, because I’m not going to fucking hurt you—no one is—if I have my way about it. It’s clear there’s something you’re dealing with and I hate secrets. But tonight, we’re not going there, you got it?”
Hysterian kept his hand poised between them, waiting for her to respond. Alexa calmed, knowing he wasn’t going to demand an answer out of her. At least not right now.
She nodded.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I got it.”
He pulled down his mask, settling the excess material around his neck. “Good.”
Alexa’s breath hitched. He’d removed the mask without her asking.
Perfectly shaped, masculine lips—with the barest hint of deviance—revealed themselves, along with a sharp chin and jawline. Hysterian wasn’t just an angel, she realized, but a fallen one. Because despite the attractive deity kneeling before her, she could still see the marks of a long and traumatic life etched into him.
She didn’t think Cyborgs had the capacity to suffer like humans.
“Give me your feet,” he said.
“What?”
“Your. Feet. Lift them. Now.”
Alexa furrowed her brow when she realized her legs were clamped together between their bodies. Did he want her to lift them—?
“Now, Alexa,” he ordered.
She popped her feet off the ground. Hysterian cupped the back of one of her ankles and tugged off her boot. He did the same for the other. He cupped her sock-covered feet and pressed his thumbs into her arches, kneading them.
She held herself stiffly. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Massaging my feet?”
“Proving to you that you have nothing to fear from me.”
“By massaging my feet?”
But his words made her toes curl. Oh, how she wanted to give in. A breath whizzed out from her parted lips. Hysterian pinned her with his dazzling eyes. She wanted to believe him. So much it hurt.
“Lie back,” he said, lowering his voice.
There was a hint of something else in it, a challenge, like he wanted to see if she would do it. If she was willing to take the risk. She stared at him hard, searching for a hint of evil that would send her running—maybe her sanity—but all she found washim.
Just him.
Alexa slowly leaned back. With one final look at Hysterian, she lay down on his bed. The lights dimmed. His hands closed around her feet and shifted them so she lay straight. He stood, looked down at her, and ran a hand over his mouth.
She remained tense, uncertain of what he was planning.
Gone was the light in his eyes, and the golden hue from the room’s lights. His face was cast in shadows, his body a dark silhouette. Some of her tension melted away. The darkness shielded her, made things easier.
