Because of the fuckingtattoo.
A twisted kind of tingle spread in my gut. The kind Iused to get when I shoplifted. I’d done something wrong. I knew I was going to be punished for it. For some messed-up reason, I felt alive because of it.
The icy, brackish winter air drifted into my room, my curtains fluttering.
He’d come.
I picked up a matchbook, toying with the fragile wood.
Snick.The flame lit.
I stared at Grim through the small, passionate flame. “The Reaper comes to visit, but I don’t have any more souls to give him.”
“You really fucked me, Rich Girl.”
THIRTY-THREE
GEMMA
“Does making the king of the Underworld an overnight celebrity cause…issues?” I licked my bottom lip.
“You think you’re cute, huh?” Grim stepped closer.
A new moon darkened the sky to something black and wicked. Grim was a chiaroscuro of emotion. Shadows sharpened his jaw while the little light from the moon set the hunger in his eyes ablaze.
“Mmm…I’m sorry.” I batted my lashes. “You wanna take it out on me?”
“You'd like that too much,” he said.
He traced a line down the nape of my neck, and I gasped at the raw sensation. His gaze shadowed, the word in them practically setting the air on fire.
Mine.
The thing between us—the irrational, reckless,hungrything—ignited.
I wanted more.
I was so tired of fighting it.
He thrust me against the wall, and the painting beside me quivered. Then he dragged my hands above my head, clasped in one of his.
I let him.
His eyes flared at the easy way I surrendered.
“I’ve been holding back.” His grip on my wrist flexed, as if he was still holding back, and he parted my thighs with one of his. “You should have taken the fucking out, Rich Girl. You brought the Reaper into your pretty little world, and I’m gonna tear it the fuck apart.”
“Not if I set yours on fire first.” I smiled.
I could feel him. Even through his jeans, he was like a lead weight on my thigh.
Hard.
I was talking about ruining him and he was fuckinghardfor it.
His lips steamed my ear. “You think I can’t play with you while the world watches?”
He bit the lobe, barely, just enough to ignite goose bumps along my spine that I could feel in my teeth.
