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“You drew my blood,” he replied like that made it any better.
I squeezed viciously hard, and hoped his throat collapsed under my hands.
He’ll regret ever crossing you. He’ll learn never to fuck with you again, or he’ll suffer for eternity and—
“Why do your eyes glaze over like that?” he asked, raspy and raw.
I squeezed his throat tighter, watching his pretty face turn pink. “None of your fucking business,” I snapped, getting close, my teeth bared as an animal instinct drove me. Another animal instinct reared its ugly head when I felt his cock harden under me, pressing enticingly against my clit.
“Are you picturing all the things you’ll do to me?” he asked, his voice weak but amusement and something dark, something thrilled, in his golden eyes. No fear. Fine. I needed to try harder.
“You’ll die for this,” I promised, breathing hard. My heart beat fast, exhilarated.
Miz flicked his wrist and I braced for pain, for magic to attack me, but it never touched me. It rushed past me, wrapped around Peach like a blanket, and whisked her away.
I should never have taken my eyes off Misery. The second I was distracted, he hooked his leg around mine, caged me in his arms, and flipped me onto my back on the bed.
“Bastard,” I seethed, struggling, blinded by fury. I tore at his skin with my fingernails and tried to sink my teeth into his arm.
“If you’re going to bite me anywhere,” he said, looming over me, his hips trapping mine against the bed, “you should bite here, where everyone will see.” He tilted his head, baring his neck, and my breathing came faster. I needed to rip his throat out, to make him bleed more, to drain his entire body until he was dead and staring up at me with the same unseeing eyes as Darya.
Darya. That name drained all the strength from my murderous haze and I flinched, my breath catching.
“Don’t go all tame on me now, Prick,” Misery taunted, a mean smile curling his mouth. “Where did all that darkness go?”
“Fuck you.”
“Mm.” His face came at me too quick to escape, and my skin crawled as he licked my face. “That is a very good idea.”
“What?” I breathed, panic quickening my heart.
“Don’t worry, Cat. I won’t hurt you too badly.”
Oh, god.
“But I don’t mind if you hurt me,” he went on, pressing his chest into mine, teeth raking down my jaw. “In fact, I insist on it. Put your pretty hands around my throat again.”
I—what?
“Now,” he commanded, his voice nothing but cold steel. It sent a shiver through me, awakening parts of me that really should have stayed asleep.1
I was still furious that Miz was the asshole who backed me against the wall and forced his tongue into my mouth, so wrapping my hands around his throat was no chore. But I jumped when darkness rippled in the air, thin streams of it winding around my torso, my own throat, others catching my ankles and—oh god—spreading my legs for Miz to settle between them.
“I was so determined to hate you,” he told me with a sneer, spreading his hand across my stomach, where a single flex of his fingers made my shirt vanish. “You took Death from me, and stole all his nights so I couldn’t sleep. I do hate you. But then you had to call Peach cute, and be kind to her, and make me like you.”
His face came close to mine, anger in his golden eyes but mostly drowned out by a furore of lust. “And you had to choke me, getting my cock all hard like a bad girl.”
A flash of heat and warning went down my body, concentrated where his hand now rested on the curve of my bare stomach. I tried to let go of his throat to push him away but more tendrils of power snapped around my wrists, pressing my hands back to his neck, encouraging me to squeeze tighter.
“You just had to make me like you,” he spat, like I’d done something evil, “and now I have no choice but to fuck that grief and guilt out of your eyes.”
“You don’t even want me,” I said, a weak protest. The scent of him was dizzying, his closeness a new brand of torture. “This is insane, Miz.”
In answer, his hand splayed lower, stroking from hip bone to hip bone and my jeans dissolved to nothing. I began to protest again because this was complete and utter madness, but he pulled my underwear to the side and drove his cock all the way inside me in a single thrust.
My eyes blew wide. I cried out loudly at the pressure, the stretch, the sudden and harsh fullness.
Oh god, when did he even lose his clothes? How was his cock hitting so deep, making me arch off the bed, frantic to escape him, frantic for him to move, to fuck me.
