“Azrael?” she cries out, kicking her arms and legs in each direction.
“Shut the fuck up, Little Slave. Save your fucking tears.”
I’m beyond pissed at her, and truth be told, I’m struggling to rein in the very little control I have where she is concerned.
Turning us, I head upstairs to her room.
“I-I’m sorry.”
My body tightens and my footing wavers, but I refuse to acknowledge her words, let alone accept them. She’s sorry she was caught, nothing more.
I stride on and kick open her door, causing her to scream, and I grit my teeth at the sound.
Then I drop her onto the bed, and the pain in my shoulder flashes down my arm. Her heaving chest and panicked gaze meets mine.
“A-Azrael?” She glances down at her fingers, and I’m unsurprised to see them coated in blood, horror dawning on herpretty little features. “I think I stabbed you.” Her chin wobbles.
I throw my head back on a sadistic chuckle that has her flinching.
She thinks she stabbed me?
Then I look toward my shoulder and the shard of glass protruding from my skin.
My little toy did indeed stab me.
With my eyes locked on hers, I smirk before pulling the glass from me, and she has the audacity to whimper.
“Tsk, tsk, Little Toy. You haven’t played very nice. Now it’s my turn to show you why Azrael never received any toys.” Her lips part, and I imagine stuffing them with my cock like I imagined in the office only minutes ago.
With a roar, I use the glass to cut my shirt from my body, sending the buttons flying across the room, and her eyes widen. Then, with blood spilling down my arm, I lean over her, dropping my fists to the mattress, caging her in on both sides.
Her startled eyes meet mine, and I stare through them with a feral need that’s beyond comprehension.
“I’m going to destroy you, Little Slave.”
She lifts her chin, shocking the shit out of me. “I deserve it,” she whispers, and I don’t know what I hate more, the sorrow in her eyes or the determination in them when she reached for the library door handle.
One thing’s for sure. I’m about to brand her for eternity.
Hevan
His eyes are so black I can’t see the pupils, yet I still search for them and that little glimmer of light that reminds me he’s human and not the devil after all.
But there’s nothing.
Terror should strike me, but the only fear I dread is for him. He’s bleeding profusely and hasn’t so much as acknowledged it, and I hate the fact I caused it.
He tilts his head from side to side, analyzing me. “Do you hate me, Little Toy? Is that why you ran?”
My heart freefalls. Is that what he thinks?
“I should.”
He raises the shard of glass, and before I even realize he’s doing it, he’s sliced through the fabric of my shirt, causing it to slide off each of my shoulders, leaving me bare and open to him.
My nipples peak at the chill in the air. The tension between us crackles as I await the fate of his fury, and it leaves me feeling like I’m drowning in the very blood dripping down his arm.
He licks his bottom lip and tugs it into his mouth as he glares at me with contempt.
