Page 68 of Bleed with Me

“Please, explain.”

“Iwantedtosleepwith Leigh, but mydickdidn’t, andwhenshetouchedme Ialmostcutoffher hand,” he fired so quickly I didn’t decipher the words. Blinking in confusion, I watched him bounce on his feet nervously, forcing my brain to understand. But I failed terribly.

“What?” I let my arm with a lamp fall beside my body, the adorable expression on his face smoothing the rough edges of my anger.

“I almost cut off her hand when she touched me,” he repeated quietly, sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I hated it. It felt wrong.”

My mouth hung open as I glanced into Dorian’s honest face. For a moment, I wasn’t sure that I heard him correctly.

“Her touch felt wrong?” My eyes narrowed as I placed my hands on my hips. “What the fuck are you talking about? You were naked!”

“I forced myself into it, okay?” He threw his arms helplessly in the air, the volume of his voice gradually increasing. “I just wanted to erase you from my head, from my body, from everywhere. I wanted you gone!”

It was the second time in less than a minute that he caught me off guard. If his plan all along was to shock me, he succeeded spectacularly because I had no idea whether I should feel ecstatic or frightened about this news.

Of course I was incurably obsessed with him. But obsession didn’t excuse stupidity. What if this sudden interest was nothing more than bait?

“And yet, here I am,” I said, studying every small shift in his posture and expression, searching for even the faintest hint of deceit. “You texted me after I killed your acquaintance, after I reminded you who you belong to. Why?”

Dorian paused. It felt like an eternity, standing there under the weight of his hazel eyes boring into mine with an intensity I couldn’t decipher. He’d never looked at me like that before—with shyness, tangled with curiosity and confusion, as if he had opened Pandora’s box and was startled by what he found inside.

“Because I liked it,” he admitted eventually, making my heart miss a few painful beats in a row. Still, that certainly wasn’t the answer I expected, and it made me trust him even less.

“You liked it, huh?” My eyes narrowed. A dangerous idea slipped into my mind, urging me to test him. But if it backfired, I could be the one to end up unmasked and chained.

Dorian nodded, holding my scrutinizing gaze.

“What exactly did you like, baby?” The false sweetness dripped from the tip of my tongue as I took a slow step closer. With a gun strapped to my right thigh and a knife tucked into the holster at my back, I held a clear advantage over him. “The murder? Or the punishment?”

“The possessiveness screaming from your actions, ma vilaine,” he answered, his voice firm, unwavering. “The unhinged territorial instinct with boundaries that cannot be crossed. The obsession. The insanity. And your ludicrous belief that you could force me to my knees and walk away alive.”

“So much admiration and you still let another woman touch you.” I ignored my idiotic heart, beating so hard my ribs trembled.

“It was a mistake.” He lowered his head slightly, giving me the most adorable puppy stare I had ever seen. “I regretted it the moment we were alone.”

Fuck, I wanted to believe him so much it hurt. But the rational part of my brain was on alert. Why the sudden change? Why now?

“Where did she touch you?” I asked, carefully taking another step closer to him.

“What?” He looked taken aback by my question.

“Where did her filthy hands touch?” I repeated, briefly scanning his ripped pecs and glowing golden rings in his nipples.

“Just my chest.” His brows furrowed when I pointed my index finger at him and moved it from side to side, tracing imaginary lines in the air.

“Where exactly, Dorian?” I demanded through gritted teeth, the mere thought of another woman having her hands on him making me livid with rage.

“Here.” He raised his right arm toward the left side of his chest, his fingers circling the oval from his collarbone to the piercing. “This is the only place she touched.”

“I see,” I mumbled, blinded by the uncontrollable jealousy. Without thinking twice about my actions, I erased the distance between us, glaring at the spot he marked as if trying to burn it.

He belonged to me. Every fucking piece of him was mine.