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Every emotion overflowed.
Every heartache and fear.
With a cruel smile, he reached for my breast and twisted my nipple.
Hard.
“Ahhh.” I squirmed in his punishment, only to scream as he thrust violently inside me. “Oh God—”
Stabbed against the wall with his cock, I couldn’t stop the convulsing clenches that sucked him deeper.
“Jesus Christ.” He fisted my breast again, squeezing me so damn hard.
My eyes watered with agony.
My body reached another level of crazed.
“Qu’est ce que tu es en train de me faire?” (What are you doing to me?) His eyes tangled with mine, swarming with ghosts and monsters. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
The same question I’d thought.
And still no answers.
“I have no idea how to survive you.” He twisted my breast again, his thumb digging into my nipple.
My vision was full colour.
My body a riot of anguish.
Any other man and I’d be in full combat mode.
Any other abuse and I’d be in tears.
But with this man and this abuse?
Fuck, I almost came.
He bent his head and lapped at the bite mark on my neck.
A full-body shudder had me falling into yet another level of desire.
I’d never felt this way. This unbound. This honest. This free.
Feeding a whisper directly into my wound, he rutted deeper, deeper into me. “You think I’m like them. You call me a rapist like the other Masters. But…you’re wrong. I’m not a man who can hurt another and get off. I thought I was. I feared I was, but you…you showed me that I need someone to fight me. To be brave enough to survive me. I need you.” He groaned as he bit me again, tonguing my blood. “Christ, I need you. Only you. You make me so goddamn hard. You’re messing with my mind, Ily. But…if I’m brave enough to face what I am, then you better be too.”
Pulling away, he glowered at me as if he truly hated me, all while falling into war with me. “I’m a sadist, little nightmare. There, I said it. I confess I want to string you up, whip you, bleed you, and do a thousand bad things to you—”
“Oh my God.” My head fell back.
I wanted to tell him to stop. To shut up. To keep his perversions to himself.
Yet my ears rang for more.
My core fisted his penetrating length.
I throbbed.
I ached—
“Fucking hell.” His forehead landed on mine, our sweat mingling, our essence binding. “You’re perfect. So damn perfect.” Nuzzling my cheek, he whispered, “If I’m a sadist—if I’m finally ready to admit that word—then, I hate to tell you, little nightmare, but you—with all your morals and sweetness, beneath all your goodness and bravery—you are nothing more than my angry, dirty masochist.”
My eyes flew wide. “What—?”
“I’m not done.” He couldn’t look away from my mouth, his face tight with hunger. “And the best part is…you don’t even know it.”
Masochist.
The word echoed.
It grew teeth and chewed into me.
It became a dagger and slaughtered me.
Because I suddenly did know.
It answered my question.
T-That’s what’s wrong with me.
That’s why—
“The label fits, doesn’t it?” He swayed closer to my lips, hypnotized against his will. “I might not have seen who you truly are beneath your prickly ferocity, but I did wonder the moment I realised what I am. You grow so wet for me despite your hatred. You fuck me like you love me, all while despising my touch. You were desperate at dinner because I spanked you and didn’t finish you off, yet you covered it up with a nasty powerplay of taking from me.”
Lowering his voice, he came so close to my mouth. “Tell me, Ily…didn’t that feel wrong to you? Taking from me instead of letting me give you what you deserve?”
“What I deserve?” I glowered, doing my best to see straight when every molecule vibrated out of control. I swallowed a groan as he continued to rock into me. “You think I deserve all this pain?”
“Yes.” His gaze darkened to a flat sterling. “I do. Because you cause me pain just by existing.”
His mouth came closer, closer. His lips agonisingly near, too near, tinglingly near.
My heart kicked.
I swayed forward despite myself, summoned as if he was a necromancer bringing a black, black part of me to life.
That creature in the storm—the girl who was ready to murder and turn her back on everything—stalked bolder through my veins. My claws kept growing. My needs kept changing. Metamorphosing and rewiring the last of my pieces until I had no idea what I’d become.
His chest heaved, scattering the last remaining droplets on his skin.
I was afraid of him.
Wet for him.
Exhausted by him.
But I really, really needed him to kiss me.
A shocking, soul-wrenching connection weaved between us.
The way he’d defended me tonight.
The way he begged me to accept his black-riddled heart.
I had no immunity anymore.
No defence against him when he had an uncanny knack of making me see the tortured boy within, all while layering me in bruises.
