“I’m scared,” I admitted to him, and for a moment, he looked angry, though I knew the anger wasn’t for me. It was for the god that had frightened me.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Lilith. I would die before I allowed Him to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whispered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He wrapped a large hand around my jaw, looking at me as if he were worried I would suddenly disappear from his arms.
“The world would spin on without me, Lilith,” he said softly. “But without you, there would be nothing. You must promise me that no matter what, you will stay in Hell where it is safe. Even if Shem or I are taken. Without you, we are doomed.”
“I can’t promise that.” Visions of Shem’s and Ramel’s faces splattered with blood and ink swam through my mind.
I couldn’t lose them… they were all I had.
They say there is a fine line between love and hate. I realized now, looking up into Ramel’s perfect face, that somewhere along the way, he had managed to cross that line. I no longer hated him, though I knew I should.
It had taken Yahweh’s threat to open my eyes. I could no longer imagine what sort of a life I could live without him or Shem, and I would do whatever I could to make sure they didn’t meet the same fate as Mike.
“I refuse to lose anyone else,” I murmured. “Especially you.” I reached up and ran my fingers gently down the side of his stubbled cheek. His eyes filled with a pained longing for a moment, but when he blinked, it was gone.
“I love you, Lilith,” he breathed, staring at me so intently I could feel his gaze burn a path along my skin. “You don’t need to say it back. I just need you to know that I do, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
He kissed me, and I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth of his kiss to chase away the image of his lifeless face.
I couldn’t tell him that I loved him, but I could give him this. So I opened for him and gave myself to him in a way I never had before. I didn’t just submit to him but invited him in.
Sliding my hands down, I traced each slice across his bare chest, marveling how my touch pebbled his tattooed skin. I allowed my hands to travel lower, fully giving myself over to him as his tongue traced the seam of my lips. I moaned into his mouth as my hand wrapped around his hard length, squeezing him softly in my fist.
Suddenly, he broke the kiss and cuffed his fingers around my wrist, pulling my hand back up and away from his waistband.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, though his voice was rough, and the hard swell of his cock told me he very much wanted me to.
I felt my eyes widen at his words.
I didn’thaveto? Sincewhen?
He clearly understood the confusion in my gaze, and his brow creased in concern. His eyes flit down my body to rest on my thighs where the bandages he had wrapped around my legs lay beneath the soft cotton of my pants.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice cracked. “Not anymore.”
I could see the internal war that was raging within him painted plainly on his face. He was fighting his true nature with every ounce of self-control he had. For the first time since I had met him, he was trying to put my needs first. But I needed this. I neededhim.
“I need you to distract me,” I whispered. The memories of his hollow eyes and broken skull swimming just beneath the surface of my mind. I was worried that if I didn’t find a way to forget, the memories of that dream would be tattooed on my psyche so permanently I would somehow manifest them into reality. He searched my eyes as if trying to convince himself that I meant what I had said.
“Please,” I begged, and he nodded, leaning forward to kiss me again. His lips were gentle, and I pressed into him, wrapping my hand around his neck and pulling him closer.
He kissed me back, but he was hesitant. He barely allowed his tongue to enter my mouth, and when he did, his strokes were soft and careful. As if he were afraid to be too rough.
It wasn’t enough.
I wantedmore.
I tugged my wrist out of his grasp, and he let me. I frowned, annoyed that he had let me go.
Breaking the kiss, I pulled back, staring at him in frustration. “I need more than this,” I breathed. He pursed his lips, but his chest was heaving as if he were doing everything he could to hold himself back.
“Lilith,” he growled, looking like he was in physical pain at my request.
“This isn’t you,” I whispered, nudging my wrist back into his hand and closing his fingers around it, showing him that I wanted him to restrain me.
