I hum. “Probably…everything?”
Her eye twitches.
“But, primarily, I’m afflicted by a deadly disease.” I lower my face, all pitiable. “It’s calledlove. I’m thoroughly, completely, and uncontrollably in love with you.” Lifting a hand, I look at the leather cloaking it. “It makes me mad; and bymad, I mean insane. Hopelessly unstable, really. You know, I was a positively upstanding and mentally sound individual before you came into my life. Regrettably, however—for you—thinking about you hits my system like a drug. I have athingwhere obedience grates against the grain of my spirit even when the command is hardly implied, but with you? Everything changes. I want to submit. I want to obey. I want tokneel. And you told me to be kind, sokind is what I have been, isn’t it? Have I not poured effort into every kindness, every consideration? You told me to treat you like a wife, or likemywife, and wouldn’t clarify for me which you wished for, so I decided myself.” I close my hand into a fist. “You aremine.”
“You’re…crazy.” She shakes, her own fists clenching into tight balls. “You can’t just own me.”
“Can’t I?”
A muscle in her jaw tweaks, and I revel in it. It’s glorious. She’sexhausted, so the lid she keeps on her soul is straining against the pressure of her true feelings. Soon, I’ll be caught in the vibrant explosion, and I can hardly manage the anticipation.
Except, suddenly, without a single scrap of warning or mercy, she catches herself, and my swelling heart stutters.
No.
No, no, no.
Breaths heavy, she begins stuffing her emotions away, calming the storm in the bottle, fixing the lid on tighter around the neck. Bit by horrible bit, she crams those beautiful glimpses ofherall up wherever the heck she always hides them, in whatever pit she condemns them to.
Desperate, I prod, poke,jab. “Nothing to say to that?” I ask.
She turns her face, clenches her jaw.
“You’re mine,” I remind her. “I sayjump, you jump. Up, down, left, right. You do what I tell you. Every breath you take is with my permission. You are my bird and my doll andmine.” Pinching her chin, I fix her icy eyes back on me. “So when I saylook at me, you obey. Look at me now, darling. Tell me what you see.”
Her eyes spark.
The lid wobbles once again.
I’m so close.
So Ishovejust a little more. Just to the brink of the cliff.
Lips curling, I lean in and whisper, “Tell me.Do you see your future husband in your current master?”
That’s it.
That’s what it takes.
Shesnaps, careening over the edge, unleashingeverythingshe always holds back. It’s thrilling. It’s lovely. It’swonderfulandgorgeousandreal.
Though, to be sure, I didn’t expect her to grab my hand on the way down.
Chapter Eight
?
…oops.
Azalea
“Die, die, die, die, die, die,die,” I hiss, firm body beneath me, strong neck clutched in my hands. My nails bite through my gloves and into Malcolm’s flesh as I crush his windpipe, pinning him to one of the two probably filthy beds in this probably filthy hotel room. He doesn’t struggle as his face splotches crimson and grows darker. He merely tangles his fists in the comforter on either side of his broad body as his eyes glaze.
Unmistakably, he smiles while he gapes. Then, when he must be close to passing out, his eyes roll back, and a choked whimper escapes him. The low sound shocks my brain back to functioning, and I recall how I got…here.
I lunged on him. My feelings burst free in a scarlet explosion. There was a flash of heat, and then all sense left my brain, taking with it the knowledge that we’re in a hotel room with hall security cameras proving that we were the only two people who came in here before only one of us could leave.
Sanity returns with that icy understanding, and I jolt, releasing him.
