Adjusting my demeanor, I smirk slightly, allowing my gaze to trail from his strong chest until it meets his once again, ready to engage in his bullshit and I lift my mouth close to his, delving into his swirling depths. “No, Hell. You don’t scare me, and neither will Hellion,” I whisper seductively with a flutter of my lashes. “You’re both big, fluffy bears compared to the men I have dealt with.”
He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes gliding over my features with a cold detachment as he ponders my brazenness.
“Brave words,” he murmurs. “But let's see how brave you really are when my games begin, Noir.”
Then, in a sudden move, he quickly thrusts his face unnervingly close to mine, the sharp edge of his blade grazing my throat. The action catches me off guard, and I am forced to tip my head back as he hisses, “Because you will be. I haven’t even fucking started playing with you.” My eyes frantically scan his, bracing myself for his next vicious words. “Limp dick too.”
Anger flares within me, my brows pinching together, and I scowl before unleashing my venomous warning. “The only person who will be in danger here will be you if you hurt E.”
I see the amusement dancing on his face as he responds. “Was that a threat?”
My jaw tenses as I stare at him squarely. “Yeah, it was. I’ll stab you in the neck. You may scare everyone else here, but not me.”
His gaze traces a heated path down my chest once more. “Fuck, I love it when you talk murder to me,” he breathes out, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
Without warning, he seizes the nape of my neck with a bruising grip, pressing his blade harder against my throat as he growls, “How about I just cut you from ear to ear and fuck your cold dead cunt instead?” My breathing grows erratic. I can no longer hide the fear he instils in me as he continues his terrorization. “My Dolly will be nothing but a stiff fucking corpse while I try to screw the life back into her.”
My wide eyes stay fixed on him, panic coursing through my veins at the sight of this absolute maniac before me until he switches again and I start to wonder if I am experiencing Hell or Hellion or, both.
Coercing me to hold his knife, his grip around mine is vice-like as he places the blade on his throat, chin lifted. “Actually, slice my fucking throat since you want to speak of murder like it’s nothing, brave girl. It’s the only way you’re going to stop what I do to you and him.”
Still fighting against him, I manage to compose myself, clinging desperately to the shreds of my confidence. “You deranged psycho fuck. You’re messing with the wrong girl.”
“I know exactly what I’m messing with, Noir. I knew it from the night I first saw you. You’re as fucked in the head as me. And every single night after, you allowed me to watch you has only confirmed it.” Taking a deep breath, I narrow my eyes and remain silent, but he persists. “He can’t even screw you right. He’s a fucking embarrassment.”
Defensiveness creeps up my throat. “He’s a good person, unlike you. You sound jealous,” I bite back, my words sharp.
“Yes, yes I am fucking jealous. I’m feeling murderous that he has the luxury of having his fucking hands on what’s mine when he doesn’t deserve it.”
My face screws up with confusion “Yours?” I scoff.
His hand tightens on the back of my neck as he peers deep into my eyes with seriousness. “Yes. Mine,” he growls possessively, the way he said “mine” trembling down to my core.
I shake my head once, hardly believing this guy as he continues. “Good, doesn't make girls like you come or feel desired.”
I quirk an eyebrow at his accusation. “Girls like me?”
With his knife still positioned on his neck, he brings his face closer to mine, his voice dropping to a menacing murmur.
“Yes, girls like you. The beautiful, yet broken kind that seem to blossom in the darkness of lust. They want to experience a scream ripping from their fucking throat rather than releasing a soft moan. They crave to feel the bite of pain rather than a gentle, loving touch. They possess an insatiable hunger to be violently screwed against the shower wall while being choked the fuck out until they can no longer stand it, rather than having to endure a slow, pathetic fuck.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, raw and strangely accurate. They echo to the twisted part of myself that I've tried to deny, the part that craves darkness. As much as I want to fight him, to argue that I’m not what he says I am, a part of me knows he's right.
As I gather myself, I draw a deep breath. “So, this is a regular thing for you, is it? You do this to other girls?” I ask, my suspicions raised.
He shakes his head once in response, his spiraling orbs locked on mine. “No, Noir. I've been trying to find you my entire life.”
Fuck, this needs to stop.He is saying all the right things. His way of words are stirring things inside me that I thought were long gone, things I didn't even know could surface.
Confusion.
Fear.
Arousal?
How can I feel this way about someone so fucked? He is everything I have tried to escape. Yet, unfortunately, there is definitely something about Hell that lures me in, and it's clear he feels it too. It's like a dangerous, fucked-up magnetic pull between us that I'm trying to resist with everything I have.
Maybe it's the pills; yeah, it has to be. I’m not feeling myself. I am not in control.
