GEMMA
Grim pulled back, touching the spot I’d bit him, blood staining the pads of his fingers red. I had half a second to feel the rush of terror, the sane part screaming,What the fuck did you do?His gaze darkened into something lethal, andwith a deep, guttural noise, his lips crushed mine.
Grim didn’t kiss like he fucked.
Grim fucked like he was dying, vicious and violent. Grim kissed like he had already died, and this was heaven. He kissed me like I didn’t have a knife biting against his neck. A toe-curling possession oozed from his soft yet demanding lips.
If we were a fairy tale, this kiss would have been under the stars. Not here, while a body bled out at our feet.
But Grim and I weren’t a fairy tale.
Grim sucked on my bottom lip, pulling it out with a bite I felt in my toes. I gasped and he pushed his tongue into my open mouth, punishing.
I leaned into it. Addicted to the dichotomy. Somehow both gentle and rough, demanding and imploring.
Possessive.
With each swipe of his tongue, he claimed me. Ruined me for anyone else.
He tasted like some dark, secret liquor. Something spicy but also sweet, heady like good liquor,illicitand not meant for human lips.
Ambrosia. The drink of the gods.
I moaned and his mouth slanted to pull me deeper, as if trying to swallow my sounds. One hand slid down my body, around my back, up to my neck, back into my hair—touching all of me like it was the last time.
Grim forced me closer, the knife cutting deeper into his flesh until sprigs of blood dotted his flesh like Christmas holly.
Grimwantedthis. I couldn’t pull back if I tried.
Blood dripped down his neck, and an insane part of me liked it, wanted to mix it with mine so even if he tried to leave me, he never could. I’d be stuck inside him.
Maybe my breathing got too raspy, or my heart beat too loud, because it was like he knew what I was thinking.
His teeth scraped my bottom lip, groaning. “My fucked-up princess.”
His kisses grew frenzied and bruising, lips traveling down my neck, mouth a searing-hot brand on my flesh, alternating between tongue, lips, teeth against the muscle.
The butterflies in my belly electrified, shock waves of heat rolling through my body.
Grim spoke a mix of English and Spanish, my skin prickling with each hot whisper against my flesh.
So fuckedup.
Jodida princesa.
Te voy a hacer mía.
So perfect.
And when Grim said it, I…I felt perfect.
Our eyes opened at the same time. Lips wet, eyes heavy, the Grim I saw on the beach was back. His mask gone. I wanted to burn the way he looked at me into my brain. My teeth tingled with it. Like he wanted to fuck me. Kill me. Right here.
His Adam’s apple bobbed jagged with a swallow.
He wasstillholding back.
“Grim…”
