His jaw flexed, as if the thought alone unsettled him. His grip on my neck tightened possessively.
“Zaghan–”
“Why is the necklace I gave you in your friend’s house?” His voice turned sharp, the heat of his cigarette-tainted breath fanning over my skin.
“Are you serious?” My irritation flared. “You put a tracker on me.” I wrenched myself free from his hold, or maybe he released his hold. “You have been watching me like a goddamn creep. That’s not right. Does any of that sound normal to you?”
I had given the necklace to Kenzo after he dropped me off. He went to check it and found that indeed there was a tracker. But that wasn’t all. It had a camera too and could record audio. He hadn’t just been mapping out my movements, he was watching everything I was doing. Hearing everything I was saying.
He was literally choking me.
Fucking psychopath.
He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, a smirk curving his lips. “You’re mine.”
“And you’re sick,” I spat. “Take me home.”
He watched me lazily through half-lidded eyes, cigarette returning to his lips as he took another slow drag.
“Sit,” he commanded.
“No–”
“Put your fucking ass down, Elizabeth!”
The growl in his voice was enough to make my heart slam against my ribs. My breath caught and before I even registered it, I was sitting again, though as far away from him as the bed allowed.
But I barely had time to settle into the new position as he was on me again. One hand gripped my thigh, the other snaking around my waist, pulling me closer to his body.
“Come on, I’m exhausted, baby,” he whispered, and I shivered at the nickname. For some reason, I liked it a lot when he would casually call me baby. It was gentle, yet rough, tender, yet possessive. I preferred it to thelittle witch.I didn’t even know where he coined that idea from. I wasn’t a witch. Though, I hoped I was. I would have woven a dark spell and burned the world down.
“And I’m trying so hard to be nice to you.” His voice was smoke-laced with something darker. “Don’t push me tonight, Elizabeth. Don’t be your naughty self and make this harder than I want it to be.”
His lips found the fluttering pulse beneath my ear, pressing a slow, intentional kiss. Then his teeth sank into my soft skin, sharp and possessive.
I yelped, the sting pulsing through me as my fingers clenched on his thigh. As if aware of the pain he had caused, he stuck out his tongue, soothing the burn with a slow, languid stroke.
“I don’t want to rough tonight,” he murmured, lips brushing over the mark he just made. “I know you had a bad day. Trust me, I know. This is me trying to make you feel better.”
I shuddered.
“I just want to sleep,” I whispered. “Just take me home, Zaghan.”
“I will, darling,” he grunted, placing open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder. “But not now. Not yet.”
Dissatisfied with the limited access to my skin, he hooked the finger that held the burning cigarette under the strap of my top, sliding it down my arm until the fabric barely covered my nipple.
“Zaghan.” A soft moan escaped my lips when his hand cupped my breast, my breath hitching as the glowing tip of the cigarette pressed against my skin, leaving behind a gentle burn.
“Fuck, take it off.” He fixed the cigarette between his lips again, hunger and fire darkening his gaze.
“What?” I asked, breathless.
“Take it off or I’m ripping it.”
My fingers hooked under my hem immediately, lifting the thin, silk material over my head and tossing it aside.
His eyes traced the exposed curve of my body, lingering on my heaving and swollen breast. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips when he spotted the faint burn mark left by his cigarette.
