Page 93 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“Because you didn’t give me your consent. I may be a dangerous man, but I’m not like those bastards Logan and I killed, and I’m not like your husband.”

“That’s debatable.”

“It was wrong of me to enter your home while you were sleeping without your express permission. I’m sorry, Edie.”

“And was it wrong of you to lie to me about my husband’s membership at your club? Was it wrong of you to lie to me about those men you murdered?”

“I didn’t lie. I was protecting you from the truth.”

She scoffs. “And what about your reaction at the club? Was that wrong too?”

I heave out a breath. “I admit, I didn’t handle myself very well.”

She hesitates, the blade’s edge biting into my skin and coaxing a bead of blood. Warmth trickles down my neck, igniting my instincts, but her weary sigh dissolves the tension. Neither of us truly wants to cause the other pain. Doesn’t mean we won’t though.

“You’ve betrayed my trust, Dorian. I don’t even know why I’m still entertaining this. I should scream. I should stab you with this knife. At the very least, I should call the police.”

“But you won’t. Why is that?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” I persist.

“You don’t get to know what I’m feeling if you’re not willing to do the same in return. Now tell me exactly what you did,” she demands, stepping closer, and I know she isn’t asking me about the recent murders, but when I was in her room the other night. “I want the truth.”

“Then you’ll have it.”

“Well?” she persists, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I…” I pause, trying to find the right words. Fuck, this is harder than I thought.

“Stop stalling, or so help me. I’ll stab you!”

I raise a brow, suppressing another smile at her savagery. “I stood on your balcony for a long time at war with myself. You have to believe me when I say I was prepared to leave. I was about to, but you called out my name, and then…”

“And then what?”

“You touched yourself, and I couldn’t… Fuck, I couldn’t leave, Edie. I wanted…”

Her cheeks flush and desire flickers behind her eyes, but she shakes her head, no doubt in an attempt to fight it. “You wanted to do what?”

“It took everything in me not to wake you up with my lips pressed against your pussy. I wanted you so fucking badly. Instead, I rested my hand against your ankle, needing to feel your warmth, if only for a moment. Your dildo was lying beside you, and I…”

“What did you do, Dorian?”

“I placed it beneath your hand and watched you use it on yourself.”

I fail to tell her that I nicked her skin with my fangs and tasted her blood. That’s a truth she wouldn’t recover from.

“I thought it was a dream, Dorian.” She pauses, frowning. “I didn’t recall what happened until our conversation today triggered something.”

“I’m sorry for breaking your trust. You’re right to be angry. I deserve your wrath.”

“I hate you,” she says, stepping closer, her actions belying her words.

“You don’t.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” she warns, and I hiss, the knife cutting me deeper. Edie’s eyes widen, her gaze snapping to the knife pressed against my throat. “You’re bleeding,” she exclaims, drawing her hand back and dropping the knife to the floor. “I’ve cut you.”