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“I’m not one of your toys, Sebastian.”
“No, you’re more. If it were anyone else, they would’ve screamed bloody murder the night I asked you to run, but you played along, fought and clawed.”
“Anyone in my position would’ve done that.”
“Not while having fuck-me eyes.” He reaches a hand out and wraps it around my nape.
My breath hitches as I swallow the bite of food stuck in the back of my throat. My pulse speeds out of control and it’s like I’m falling into a different state of mind from merely a gesture.
Not just any gesture.
His hand around my throat—tempting, hovering, threatening.
The thought that he could cut off my breathing in a fraction of a second keeps me on the edge in a frighteningly exciting way.
“And they certainly don’t feel so fucking good when I attempt to choke them.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re similar, Nao, you and I. And I’ll make you embrace it even if it’s the last thing I do.”
15
Sebastian
Coming to The Grill used to be normal. In here, I’m the center of attention and I also enjoy the mindlessness of it.
The feelings that reach me from everyone around me are a much-needed distraction from my ominous ones.
Coming from my background and being my grandparents’ favorite charity case has forced me to turn off my ability to feel. Or rather, to stop relating to others and only watch them from a clinical view.
&
nbsp; When I’m with my group of friends, I can decompress by observing them and letting their emotions wash over me.
Like Owen, for instance. He’s loud, crude, and only thinks about getting his dick wet and being drafted into the NFL.
He’s currently telling the girls his famous story of when he killed a bear with his dad.
And while I’d usually relisten to his ego-retelling and even encourage him to go on, I’m in no mood for anything.
Correction. I’m in the mood for kidnapping Naomi and chasing her.
Or fucking her against the hood of her car—or mine.
But that’s not even the worst of it. If it were up to me, I’d do just that…and more. I’ve been holding on to my fatal thoughts so she won’t run the next time she sees me.
There’s so much more I’ve been plotting for her and those pouty lips that I need around my dick at least once a day.
But I’ve been playing it safe the past week, taking her to lunch or going to that rock in the forest just to talk.
I do kiss her sometimes and I went down on her again on the top of that rock, then fucked her mouth, but I didn’t go any further.
Because one, she instantly pulls away the second I’m about to release my beast. It’s like she senses when she’s in danger and her survival instinct kicks into gear.
Which brings me to the second reason I’ve held back. She needs to feel safe first.
She needs to be able to let go on her own without any force on my part. Because while I’m certain we’re compatible, while I’m almost sure she craves the depravity I hide, I want more proof.
