I slide my hand to the back of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my palm. “That’s not an answer.”
She meets my gaze directly, her pupils wide enough that only a thin ring of brown remains. “I’m not scared of you because…” She pauses, searching for words. “Because what you did tonight and what you’ve done before made sense to me. That violence, that rage. I understand it.”
Her fingers find the edge of a burn scar on my shoulder, following its jagged path.
“I’ve just never had the strength to do what you do.”
The confession hits me like a blow to the sternum, knocking something loose inside my chest. This woman—this chaos in human form—sees the monster in me and recognizes it as… what? As good? Surely not.
“You pulled a knife on a stranger,” I remind her, voice rough. “Threatened to cut his dick off. That takes strength.”
“Different kind,” she argues, shifting her weight again. The movement presses her core against my hardening cock, and I have to clench my jaw against the surge of want it triggers. “I can hurt someone who deserves it. You can destroy them.”
Her thumb traces my lower lip, pressing just hard enough to feel the edge of teeth behind it.
“That’s power. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on.”
I capture her hand, turning it to press my mouth against her palm. “So you’re staying because you like the monster.” My teeth scrape gently against her skin. “What does that make you?”
“Fucked up,” she whispers, her free hand sliding into my hair to tug me closer.
I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing whatever else she might have said. The kiss is all teeth, tongue, and desperate fucking need. She tastes like strawberry ice cream and red wine and something uniquely Raven that I’m becoming addicted to.
My hand slides to her throat, wrapping around it without squeezing, just feeling her pulse jump against my palm. “What if I told you I’ve hurt people who never touched me or mine? Or that I’ve set fires just to watch things burn?”
Instead of pulling away, she leans into the pressure of my hand. “Then I’d ask if you enjoyed it.”
“I did.” The confession should drive her away, but the admission feels like freedom.
“That’s the difference between monsters and men,” she whispers, her lips curving into a smile that ignites something in my chest. “Monsters don’t question their nature.”
I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “Is that what I’m doing, Little Thief? Questioning?”
“No.” Her hands slide up and down my bare chest, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “You’re owning it. There’s a difference.”
She shifts her hips, grinding down against my erection in a slow, deliberate circle that makes my breath catch.
“Besides,” she continues, her voice dropping lower, “maybe I just like the way danger tastes.”
Letting go of her throat, I grip her hips harder, guiding her into a rhythm that has her grinding against my cock with deliberate pressure.
“Fuck, Matteo.”
“That’s the idea,” I growl, nipping at her lower lip.
I capture her mouth in another kiss. She bites my lower lip, hard enough that I taste copper again, and I growl into her mouth, sliding both hands into her hair and pulling just enough to make her gasp.
Her hips rock against mine, creating a friction that’s both perfect and maddening through the layers of fabric still between us. I drag my mouth from hers to bite at her neck, marking her pale skin with impressions of my teeth that will bloom purple by morning.
“I’ve been thinking,” she pants, tilting her head to give me better access, “about something unfair.”
“What’s that?” I mutter against her collarbone.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails leaving half-moons in my skin. “You said you tasted me,” she says, her voice taking on that teasing lilt that drives me wild. “But I’ve never properly tasted you.”
Heat pulses through me at her words, my cock twitching beneath her. “Is that right?”
“Mhmm.” She circles her hips again, more pressure this time. “I think I’d like to correct that oversight.”
