“What?”
“He wanted my forgiveness. Said he’d turned over a new leaf and wanted to make things right.”
Tears fell down his cheeks, and for the first time since he’d taken me, I got a glimpse at the real Niko. The scared, angry little boy that held so much pain was seeping through.
“When I told him that it would never be possible, he got angry. Started throwing things, yelling at me, got in my face. When I was younger, I would have flinched, wouldn’t have dared to fight back. But I was grown, ya know? Things were different. I wasn’t the same pathetic little boy I was back then. So when he raised his fist, I didn’t give him the chance to hit me. I hit him first.”
He glanced up at me, his eyes scouring every inch of my face for some kind of reaction, but there was nothing to see. Only his pain mirrored in my eyes.
“He was still alive when I buried him. I remember feeling so relieved when I was finished. Like all those years he’d hurt me were finally buried with him.”
I reached up, moving the hair from in front of his eyes, and slipped it behind his ear. He shivered as I stroked his cheek with my thumb, wiping away some of his tears.
“The day my dad shut the door in my face, I… dreamt of killing him. I wanted to see him suffer like he’d made me suffer all those years.”
The words slipped from my lips, and I felt the pain in my chest ease just a little.
“For weeks, I’d go by his house and just stand on his front lawn, waiting for him to come out and face me. Then one day he called the cops, and I was told if I set foot there again, I’d be arrested.”
He reached up and gripped my hand, his cold skin making me shudder.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” I laughed.
“Why are you telling me?”
My brows furrowed as I thought about it.
“I don’t know. I guess because you understand what it’s like. No one else I’ve met does.”
“I can make it happen,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Killing your dad. I can make it happen.”
I shook my head and laughed despite the thrill that ignited in my chest.
“As nice as it sounds, I don’t think I have it in me. I can’t picture myselfactuallykilling him.”
“What about your mom?”
My chest began to ache as I thought about my mom, and I sighed.
“She’s dead. I didn’t find out until a month after she died. One of her friends told me. The night I left, I guess she abandoned the house, went on a bender, and was homeless. They found her in some alley where she OD’d. Guess fate had better plans.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached up to stroke my cheek.
I moved forward and positioned myself between his legs. His jaw ticked as I placed my legs on either side of him, the bulge of his cock pressing against my inner thigh. I pushed every thought out of my mind—the fear, the doubt—all distant memories as I started to grind against him. His muscles tensed, and a deep growl rumbled from his chest.
“You kept asking me what I wanted,” I whispered, my breathing turning heavy. “Now, it’s my turn to ask you what you want.”
His hand slipped from my cheek to my neck, loosely wrapping around my throat. I shuddered at the feeling, remembering how it felt to have his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing until I couldn't breathe.
“So, Niko, what is ityouwant?” I asked, pressing my lips against his ear.
The pressure around my neck grew tighter, a soft moan erupting from my lips. His other hand slipped into my sweatpants, trailing slowly down to my entrance. I gasped as he teased me with his fingers, letting the palm of his hand graze against my clit. He slid two fingers inside me and tightened his grip around my throat. My head fell back as he pumped into me, carrying me to the edge of pure bliss.
“Oh, god,” I moaned.
