“I’m not a fucking possession, Dread, so you can fuck off.”
I go to turn away, but he fists my hair and jerks me back into him, wrenching a gasp from my throat. Our chests press together, and my neck strains from him forcing my head back to meet his burning eyes, flames consuming them entirely.
“Then why is it you possess me?” he snarls, his voice demonic. “Why do you get to torment me, but I should let you live in peace?”
“I don’tdoanything to you!”
“You breathe!” he shouts, his gaze turning wild as our chests heave. “That’s what you fucking do, Reverie. Youbreathe. Youexist. You take up so much fucking space, I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you. You’ve ingrained yourself so deeply in me, I would die if I cut you out.”
I tremble from the storm of emotions raging inside me. Frustrated tears burn the backs of my eyes, and all I want is for him to let me hate him.
“Then die!” I growl, shoving his chest roughly with both hands. “Cut me out of you and give it all back to me!”
He only pulls me into him harder, banding his other arm around my lower back and crushing me against him. I plant my hands on his abdomen, pushing against him, but to no avail.
“Yeah? That’s what you want?” he bites out through gritted teeth, fisting my hair harder. “You want me to die, baby?”
“Yes.” I spit the word in his face.
His flames devour my body from the inside out, leaving me panting and seething and burning. I’m melting into him, and I can no longer tell where he ends and I begin.
His mouth is inches from mine as he says, “Killing me won’t make you whole again, darling. You’ll spend a lifetime searching for your broken pieces, but you’ll never find them all without me.”
I shake my head, vehemently denying his words. I refuse to believe them.
His voice drops into a deep, rough timbre. “The only time you feel complete is when I’m inside you.”
A distressed whimper leaks from my throat. “Not true,” I say, the words trembling.
“No? Let’s test it then.”
He whips us around and pushes me onto the bed. I land with an embarrassing squeal, but he’s on me before I can collect myself.
However, nothing prevents me from getting angry. I ball my fist and send it flying into his shoulder as he climbs over me. Our bodies move in sync. As I try to drag myself out from beneath him, he follows, pinning my hips down once I reach the middle of the bed.
I growl and kick at him, except I’m only angry with myself for helping him rather than successfully escaping.
“I’ve been thinking so hard about how to punish you,” he bites out as he reaches above me to grab the black backpack he left there.
I freeze as he unzips it open, both terrified of what he’s going to pull out yet needing to see. It’s like watching a fucking shark charge straight toward you. It’s horrifying, yet I need to watch so I know exactly when to brace for the pain.
“And it’s so fitting you do exactly what you always fucking do and try to run away. But I know the truth. I know you feel what I do when I'm inside you.”
I sputter at him. Clearly, the man has lost the plot, because that almost sounded like a confession of real feelings, andthat’sjust fucking insane.
“You sound crazy right now,” I say seriously, right as he reaches into the bag and pulls out an object that immediately has my eyes widening in horror.
“Oh my fucking God,Dread. Why the hell do you have a Fleshlight?” The question comes out more like a screech, but mostly because that was… that was thelastfucking thing I was expecting.
He tosses it on the bed beside me. I get so caught up in staring at it like it’s a goddamn python that when I finally drag my attention back to Dread, I’m struck over the head with shock again.
He’s shirtless and just finished putting the cap backward on his head again, though my brain is stuck trying to compute the expanse of chiseled, tattooed body. More specifically, his defined chest leading past his sculpted abs and to a very prominent V, which frames the thin happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his joggers.
Him keeping his hat on proves he’s very aware of how insanelyattractive it is, and paired with his scarred brow and the silver hoops in his nose and ears…
“You look like a fucking slut, Dread.”
He pauses, shock flitting across his expression before he laughs, andohmyfuckinggod, that made it so much worse.
