Maya lets out a laugh that ends with a snort. I glare at her and try to bare my teeth in a snarl, but a grin forms instead.
Weird.
If this is what it takes to keep the light in her eyes, I will play whatever game she wants.
18
Maya
Oh God.
I know what I’m thinking and feeling is wrong. Or at least not right. It’s a sickness. But… my heart is starting to beat for him in ways that have absolutely nothing to do with fear. And I am perfectly aware that this is the final iron nail in the coffin of my relationship with Valeria.
I know this isn’t smart. I know that one day he might do to me exactly what he did to her.
But my brain is frantically trying to rationalize the madness: it’s because he is the only person who has ever made me feel like I am anything at all.
He’s the first person to ever celebrate my birthday. He’s the only one who has ever looked at me and made me feel like I’m not completely invisible.
Not nothing.
And that is so fucking dangerous.
Because the second we cross the threshold of the estate and return home, I can’t even stop myself.
I pounce on him, throwing my arms around his neck and crashing my lips against his.
I am associating him—this place that used to feel like the setting of a horror movie—with home.
It isn’t home.
Itisn’t.
Itisn’t.
But God damn it, the denial isn’t working.
Because as his tongue immediately works its way deep into my mouth, I completely forget everything I wanted to think about.
There is only him and me.
Him—the man I am slowly, helplessly falling for simply because he celebrated my birthday and made me feel like I matter. The rest of the world can burn in hell. He moves down to kiss my neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses and bites across my shoulders. I already know they are going to be littered with dark purple marks by tomorrow.
I am in a total trance, high off feeling like I fucking matter, and my lips move before my brain can stop them.
“Fuck me.”
Graham raises his head from my chest, where he was aggressively sucking and biting hard enough to cover my small breasts in bright red brands.
“What?” he breathes, like he needs to hear me say the words one more time before he completely destroys me.
And I give it to him.
I surrender.
“I want you.”
No sooner have the words left my mouth than he flings me over his broad shoulder. His palm comes down on my ass, spanking me over and over as he marches us up the staircase toward the bedroom.
