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“Beyond that resentment,” I whisper, my eyes still closed, “there’s an ocean of sorrow. Of misery. Of the conviction that all of the torment was deserved. That, by becoming a villain, he is only giving the world what it wanted from him. What he was created to give. What nature made him. He takes the blame, there’s so much blame. So much dejection.” I suck in a deep breath, trying to get closer to the boy, who is now holding out hands with gnarled little fingers towards me.
But he’s not ready to come out. He just wants to pull me in so that we can sink back together into misery. He decided I’m the perfect companion. And I want to stay with him, but not now. Not just yet. It’s not what he needs. It would destroy us both.
My eyes slowly open, meeting Zayne’s. He’s staring down at me with that unshakable blue gaze.
“Tread softly, wild flame,” he whispers. “Because you tread on my dreams.”
I smile at him like I’ve just awakened from a trance-like sleep. “Really? Yeates?”
He smiles back, but it’s faint, ghostly.
“You just described the last dream I ever had, back when I was still a boy. I remember it vividly. The starless night, the rocks, the swaying, tall grass. The blades whipping against my face in the sharp breeze.”
Our eyes hang on each other, neither of us able to deny our connection anymore.
“What is this?” I whisper. I don’t believe in magic and, knowing Zayne the way I do, he sure doesn’t either. No one with his past could believe in something this ethereal, could they?
In response, his big hands slither down to my wrists and wrap around them. He pins my hands down next to my shoulders against the back of the sofa. My nostrils flare, his scent taking me back to a past I never knew I lived.
“Have we met before, Sirenna Miller?”
“I’m pretty sure we haven’t,” I whisper, my heart pounding with that sense of familiarity that so closely resembles doom. “But even if we did, it wouldn’t explain why I’d be deep in that dream with you.”
“But it would explain why I wanted you so viscerally from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says in a deep, thick voice that gives me goosebumps.
“Where is the orphanage?” I inquire on a shaky breath.
“Detroit.”
My ears buzz. The same orphanage where he supposedly tries out his new drugs on humans. But that means we can’t have known each other as children. I was born in the big city, to a divorce lawyer and a jewelry designer. I narrow my eyes, latching on to the dream he and I seem to share, searching for answers.
But, when Zayne’s lips crash into mine, every attempt to keep my head shatters. He claims my lips with a passion, sucking them into his mouth. I give in, my hands not even straining against his hold anymore. The man washes over me like a powerful wave, kneeling in front of the sofa and pushing my legs open with his own.
He releases one of my hands long enough to expertly slide his belt from his pants. Then, with the speed and dexterity of a professional, he tips me forward just enough to tie the belt around my wrist behind my back.
“Why are you doing this?” I mutter, my lips feeling blissfully bruised. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was for his kiss until it happened.
“Securing complete control, Sirenna, because there’s plenty more darkness in my story.” Too impatient to deal with my tank top and bra, he grabs my sweatpants and yanks them off of me in one go, discarding them on the floor next to the coffee table.
I yelp as my pussy is suddenly and utterly exposed to him, mortified to the bone as only my fluffy socks remain, uselessly covering my feet. I squirm, trying to bring my legs together, but Zayne pushes my knees apart with frightening ease. He manhandles me like I don’t pose the slightest challenge, and that’s not even the scariest thing. What should scare me out of my wits is the way he looks at me, like he could literally eat me alive. The look in his eyes is almost cannibalistic, and I’m all for it.
Next thing I know, he goes down on me, burying his face in my pussy. I shriek, both in surprise and nerve-wracking mortification, but when his tongue plunges inside of me I can’t help but jerk my hips forward to meet him. He keeps those villainous eyes on my face, taking in my expression as he fucks me with his tongue, pulling out only to lick me all the way from the crack of my ass to my clit.
I catch a fuzzy glimpse of myself against the windowpane, my knees pushed up, my hands bound behind my back as I’m completely at his disposal on the sofa. He’s large compared to me, making it too damn obvious that I can be nothing to him but prey.
“Why are you doing this?” I manage among moans and uncontrollable attempts to move my hips.
“Because it’s the only way to make you completely and utterly mine,” he growls. He releases my knees to wrap his hands gently around my throat, then lets them slide over my chest. When they reach my breasts, his fingers hook into either side of my bra, pulling my cups down. My tits spring free, my nipples puckered and painfully straining for his attention.
Loosing a groan of appreciation, he grabs both of my tits harshly, but all it infuses me with is delight because it’s him. When Zayne is being himself, he can give pain laced with pleasure like no other, making me wet to my fucking knees. This is what the sensual part of him was twisted into a long time ago, when he was denied the affection of a mother, and then put through hell.
There’s also something pathologically possessive in the way he kneads my breasts, in the way he kisses them, his teeth grazing my nipples as he sucks them greedily into his mouth.
“You’re mine,” he growls against my chest. “Completely and utterly mine.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I manage among shallow breaths. “I’m all yours now.” My voice grows calmer with every word, yet it’s charged with lust.
“Damn right you can’t,” he rasps, “but only because I made sure of that. You would have never chosen to stay if you had a say. Never chosen me.” His voice cracks as he says the words, but before the crack can gape any farther he plunges into a desperate kiss, his hands working quickly on his fly.
