Grabbing her by her chin, I force her to look down at me. Her juices still coat my face, and the smell of her delicious arousal permeates the air between us. “Is your only objection the length of time we’ve known each other?” Her eyes go wide with my question. She looks ready to bolt from my grasp. Pressing my thumb down on here bottom lip, I continue. “I could know you for one day or a thousand and still see that you are the one my bruised heart was meant to beat for.”
“But the curse…”
“How do we break it?”
She sucks my thumb into her mouth, licking the pad with her dainty tongue. “You don’t want to know.”
I snap her chin up forcefully as I stand, her neck arched, bending to my will. “If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Swallowing, I let go of her and let her have a moment to consider telling me. She twists her hands nervously before uttering in that small melodic voice of hers, “I need to drink the blood of someone who loves me. Their love must be pure and untainted. And wholly devoted to me.”
“If only we knew someone who fit those qualities, Marigold.” My hand finds its way into her tangled hair, rubbing her gently.
“Do we?”
“I dare say we do.”
She grips my hand in hers. “I don’t want to say yes, until this curse is broken. I can’t put you through the heartbreak of agreeing to something I don’t know will work. I’ve lived with this curse for so long that I’m afraid to believe it will break this time.”
“Then let’s not waste any time. We won’t know until we try, right? Besides, I’m certain I meet the requirements.” I go over to the side table and produce a letter opener my mother had gifted me. It’s silver handle glints in my hand. I flip it so that the sharp tip faces me, the handle waiting for her to grasp it. She takes it without hesitation, standing to meet me in front of the fireplace.
I’m sure most men would have run in the other direction at her revelations. But it only endears me to her more. I need to be with her like I need my next breath.
“Here goes nothing. Are you sure?" As if there could be any other answer but yes. I’ll make sure that she knows without a doubt that I am irreparably hers.
“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” I say handing her my arm. She shoves the tip of the blade into the flames of the fire, heating the edge until it glows orange. Twisting it expertly in her hand, she brings the hot blade against my skin.
“What is this?” Her thumb traces the healed flesh that mars my wrist. “Barrett?” Her eyes are full of anger.
How do I explain this part of me? A part of me that started shortly after Harriet’s death as a way to cope with the demons that plagued my mind. I didn’t realize I’d been the one to kill her. Not until today when my doctor shone a light in my eyes and it seemed to flick a switch in my brain. Suddenly, it all made sense. The guilt. The nightmares. The creeping memories that pop up out of nowhere. The burning kept all that at bay, making me focus on the pain.
“It’s something I do sometimes. To calm the anguish inside of me. This darkness, it’s consumed me since Harriet’s death. I didn’t realize that her death was brought on by my hands. The burning was the only thing that staved off the aching in my chest, until you.” Her face hardens as she listens.
“Meeting a person is not a magical cure for harming yourself, Barrett. Do not place that burden on my shoulders.”
I blink hard. Of course, she’s right. That part of myself that craves the pain cannot be snuffed out with the introduction of my heart’s desire.
“If we are to be together, you need to not do this to yourself again. I cannot bear to see you harmed.”
“What if it brings me immense pleasure?”
“Then we will find a way to incorporate that into the pleasure we bring each other. I too am drawn to mixing both a little pleasure with pain.”
My eyebrows shoot up, pulling at the wound in my head as jealousy swarms my stomach. Picturing someone putting their hands on her, makes me murderous, capable of bringing harm to whatever men lay in her past.
“As far as Harriet’s murder, I do not hold her death against you, Barrett. How could I, when I have done much worse? But if you accept me for all my flaws, then I accept you as you are. I will cherish every broken piece of you for as long as life allows me to.”
A sharp sting slits across my forearm as Marigold makes her declaration. It burns, this digging into my flesh until blood beings to flow freely.
“Shit, Marigold.” I suck in a breath between my teeth as I watch my blood drip down into an empty teacup she holds up to catch the vital fluid that floods my veins. “How much do you need?”
She smiles and it looks almost menacing in the firelight, “You’d think that you would have asked that before I jammed this knife into you.”
“I was a little preoccupied with just having asked you to marry me.”
She keeps smiling but it’s lined with a hint of sadness, as if she doesn’t believe we’re about to break her curse. Tucking my arm back as she manages to wrap the cut with a small towel. I have no idea where she got that from. I sway, feeling a bit woozy from the blood loss.
“Sit, before you fall and hit your head again.” I obey, resting my head back noticing a slight tilt to the world as I watch her dip her fingers into the cup, spinning them in a circular motion before bringing them to her lips. She sucks the blood into her mouth, eyes fluttering. It shouldn’t be alluring, watching her lick my blood, but I can’t stop watching, feeling myself grow hard again.
