My hands trembled against the cold marble of the vanity.
"I pity any man stupid enough to date you," he breathed, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Because I'll bury him alive. Six feet under in a coffin filled with rats. And I'll leave a little air hole just so he can hear me fucking you right above his grave. So his last thought before he suffocates is of me claiming what was never his." He pauses, letting his words sink "And if you ever spread these legs for another..." His hand slid from my hip to my thigh, rough and possessive, before he kicked my feet apart.With a sudden, bruising force, he shoved my chest down until my front collided with the cold marble of the vanity, leaving me bent over and completely exposed to him.
"I will make you watch as I gut him," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his middle finger grazed my center, coating itself in my own desire. He swiped his thumb over my clit, slick and hard. I choked on a gasp, my body betraying me, arching into his touch despite the monster standing behind me.
"I will spill his insides onto the floor," he hissed, his fingers circling, teasing, playing me like an instrument while he promised death. "And when he is nothing but meat and gore, I willfuck you right on top of him."
The image was horrific, but his touch was blinding. Friction and heat and terror collided, sending sparks dancing behind my eyelids.
He ground his hips against me, his fingers moving faster, mercilessly wringing the pleasure out of me. "I'llfuckyou until you're covered in his blood and my cum," he snarled into my ear. "And you will never forget the feeling of me inside you."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was drowning in him.
His other hand slid up my waist, fingers digging into my ribs, claiming me even as I tried to escape. I managed to twist away, scrambling toward the bed, but escape was fatal. He followed, closing the distance in two long strides.
"You think shooting your friend is cruel?" He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. His eyes were blown wide, swirling with a darkness that terrified me. "That was mercy, Iris. That was me showing restraint. But the next man who touches you?"
He loomed over me, trapping me in his shadow.
"I'll cut off his eyelids so he can't look away while I break every bone in his body with a hammer. I'll shatter his kneecaps, his elbows, his ribs. One by one. And I'll make you hold the flashlight so you can see every detail. Every fracture. Every drop of blood that spills because of you." His hand moved to my throat, his thumb pressing into my windpipe just enough to make me gasp. "And if you try to run from me..." he whispered, his thumb stroking my pulse point, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heart.
He cut himself off by slanting his lips over mine.
The kiss was slow, deep, and terrifyingly intimate. He groaned into my mouth, his hand tightening in my hair, tilting my head back to grant him deeper access. It was a kiss that promised ownership, a kiss that said he knew exactly how my body betrayed my mind.
I whimpered, my body melting against him despite the fear. He ground his hips against mine, letting me feel the hardness of his erection, letting me feel exactly what he wanted to do to me.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust. "I'll find you. I don't care if you go to the ends of the earth. I will find you, and when I do. I'll make sure you never see a ray of sunlight again." He shoved himself away from me, putting distance between us as if he were afraid of what he might do next.
I stumbled backward, my legs giving out, and I sank onto the bed, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. He picked up a robe I had discarded earlier, walked over, and draped it over my shivering shoulders. Then he crouched down, his hands resting on my knees, his expression shifting from monster to protector in the blink of an eye. "Sleep well,my love," he murmured, histhumb brushing my knee. "We have a long flight tomorrow. And I want you well-rested."
He stood and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the frame. "Oh, and Iris?" He glanced back over his shoulder, a genuine smile curving his lips—a smile that made my blood run cold. "I mean every single word."
And then he was gone. I sat there on the edge of the bed, gripping the robe until my knuckles turned white, my body shaking uncontrollably.
He isn't bluffing. He is completely, utterly insane.
Chapter 17
?
IRIS
I wake up, take a long shower, pack my bags, and get everything ready. When I come downstairs, Ilay is already waiting. He looks calm, composed, as usual, and fully prepared.
I glance around and raise a brow. "No bodyguards?"
He gives me a slight smirk. "It's just a trip to America. I have people there. No need to carry a whole team across the ocean."
"Right," I say, adjusting the strap of my bag. "Of course you do."
We get into the car, and the tension between us sits right there in the backseat like a third passenger. Neither of us says much on the ride, but it isn't exactly uncomfortable.
When we arrive at the private airport, I can't help but grin. Tessa is already there, standing near the entrance with a massive duffel bag and what looks like homemade cardboard signs tucked under her arm.
She is dressed in baggy jeans, an oversized hoodie, a backwards cap, and beat-up sneakers. She looks like she has raided a teenage boy's closet.
"Tessa!" I call out, walking over.
