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“You can trust her,” she tells her in a voice that feels like honey. Craving punches me in the gut, causing more pain than the stab wound in my shoulder or the lashes on my skin. I want her to use that voice with me.
Goldie hesitates at first, her vacant gaze dragging slowly from Eva to Justine. She finally decides Justine is safe, and only seems to even become aware of my presence when she walks by me, and her arm brushes against my leather jacket. She comes to a halt and drags her eyes up just as slowly, until those small pupils align with mine.
That’s when I see it. A slight pulse in them. She senses the danger.
“It’s fine,” Eva says as softly as before. “I’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me.”
But Goldie knows better. She recognizes a wolf in sheep’s skin better than most people. And she’d be right to fear me if this were any other person. But it’s Eva.
“Your sister is right,” I tell her, my eyes not leaving hers. The only way she’s going to trust me is like this. No pretenses. No masks. “She’s safe with me. In fact, I’ll kill anyone who so much as looks at her wrong. Do you trust me on that?”
Goldie keeps looking me straight in the eye, a deep, intelligent, perfectly wise part of her contemplating all of this. In the end, her shoulders sag, her gaze drops, and she shuffles out of the room, Justine close behind her. I walk after them only to close the door and lock it. When I turn to Eva, she’s shaking uncontrollably.
“You lied to her,” I remark. “You don’t feel safe with me. You don’t think I won’t hurt you.”
“Please don’t play with me, Micah,” she manages. “We both know why you’re here, and why you locked us both in this room.”
“We do?”
“I didn’t tell you about your mother. I could have ended Romano’s rule of terror over you and your brother six months ago.”
“You kept secrets,” I say coolly. “Quite a few of them.” I come to a halt in front of her, slipping my knee between her legs. They part easily. A soft breeze runs through the curtains, the sun filling the room as it rises higher in the sky. Birds chirp too cheerfully for a winter morning, making it feel more like spring, or maybe it’s all the blood I’ve lost and the fucking butterflies inside my chest.
“And it’s not just about my mother, or Romano.” I grip her chin between my fingers. “It’s about your sister, about Santi Rossi, and your plans of leaving me one day, no matter what. You always meant for our story to end.”
“That’s not true.” Tears glimmer in her eyes.
“What I wouldn’t give to believe you.” My grip on her chin hardens. “But look where we are.” I motion around at the pale-pink walls, the doll-packed shelves—some of them with their eyes gouged out, while others seem to have received a lot of care with skillfully applied make-up. “Can you tell me you didn’t come here to get your sister and run as far away from me as possible?” Her lips part and shiver. She must see the devil in me again, and it is hard to keep him down. “Of course you can’t.”
“I want nothing more than to be with you,” she whispers. “But let’s face it, Micah. You’re never going to forgive me, and I get it. I mean, how could you? I can barely forgive myself.”
“It’s not forgiveness that I struggle with,” I say as I run my thumb over her lips. “It’s trust. You see, I don’t trust that you’ll stop trying to leave me, and we’re gonna need to find a solution for that.” My hand wraps slowly around her neck. She manages to suck in a breath before my grip makes it difficult. I keep my eyes on hers as she realizes she depends on me for the very oxygen that reaches her lungs.
“I’m gonna make you need me as much as air, Eva,” I say darkly. “I’m gonna fuck you until I become a part of you that you’re forced to integrate.”
She moves her lips, her voice barely audible. “Forced,” she repeats. “Force me, Micah.”
The demon flares, ready to break through my skin.
I use my grip on her throat to make her stand up, and bring her to face the corner mirror that her sister has decorated on the sides with butterflies made of lipstick. Disturbing red butterflies that seem to be bleeding, giving a glimpse into her sister’s mind.
We stand there for a moment, my dark eyes swallowing the bright blue of hers. Night sweeping over an ocean, consuming its waves.
“I want you to take a good look at yourself,” I say as my other hand slips under her hoodie to find her completely naked underneath. I hiss, relishing how she squirms in my grip instead of tightening all over with fear. No matter what she does, she can’t help being aroused by me, and that encourages me in my decision. “I want you to understand that I’ll always have you in a chokehold. I’m not a bad boy gone good because of love, and I’ll never be good. But I can do good things for you.” My grip tightens on her neck as my other hand takes hold of her breast. “Ah, how perfectly it fits in my hand. You were made for me, weren’t you, Professor?”
I bring my lips to her ear, gently brushing the shell. “Mine,” I growl, and a shiver runs through her.
She leans against me, her back to my chest as my hand slips down to her denim pants and pops open the upper buttons before I slide down the zipper.
“Hmmm, no panties,” I hum in her ear. Her body grinds against me as if the sound alone is enough to turn her on.
“It’s all Justine had in her old bedroom,” she explains, but the last word is lost in a gasp as my fingers slip between the lips of her pussy.
“So wet already,” I purr. Her eyes roll back, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips, which is when my grip tightens dangerously on her throat. Her eyes snap open, but her hips grind harder into my fingers, but then I shove them in. She lets loose a strangled yelp.
“I imagine it must hurt, your cunt being the tight little pleasure hole that it is.” Holding her against me by the throat, the back of her head resting against my shoulder, I sink in to my knuckles.
She watches my wrist move in the mirror, her hips gyrating. She’s incapable of stopping herself, and it’s a fucking aphrodisiac. I keep fucking her with my fingers, getting her ready for the moment when I’ll shove in three of them. Turns out I don’t have the patience to prepare her for long. Her cheeks flush, and her eyes lose focus. She might feel like I have her life in my hands, but I’d never put her in the slightest danger. She’s completely safe, but she doesn’t know it, and I intend to keep it that way.
