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This is a threat that makes my nipples go hard and my skin tingle.
A threat that sounds like it encompasses something so much deeper, so much more.
A threat of what it would be like if he claimed me.
I can barely breathe, and I feel lightheaded and a bit dizzy. All I’m aware of is the thundering of my heart and the heat coiling low in my belly as he stares down at me and I look back up at him, trapped by his body and his gaze.
He probablywoulddestroy me, if he got his hands on me in that way.
But I must want to go up in flames, because I tilt my head up even farther, closing some of the space between our faces. Drawn to him the way I always seem to be.
Malice moves at almost the exact same moment I do. His head drops the rest of the way, his fingers digging into my jaw a little as he kisses me, deep and consuming—like a hurricane unleashed. His mouth is hot and insistent, like he’s trying to devour me whole from the inside out. There’s nothing gentle about it, and his strong hand holds me in place with a bruising grip.
I’m trapped between him and the door, nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from the feelings that are surging through me.
And this is just a kiss.
What would it be like if it was more than that?
The kiss is soul stealing, and I can’t fight what the heated pressure of his lips is doing to me. I get lost in it, kissing him back, our mouths somewhere between clashing and melding together each time we come back for more.
Malice pins me tighter against the door, his body hard against mine. I can feel every point of contact between us like a burning fire, branding me. The searing heat makes my brain scream at me to back away, certain I’m going to be consumed, even while my body is yearning to dive headfirst into those flames.
He bites down on my lower lip, hard enough that it draws blood, but that doesn’t slow down the kiss at all. He sucks my lip into his mouth, dragging his tongue against it, and I know he must taste the metallic tang of the blood he drew. The movement of his tongue isn’t soothing or tender, just ravenous and consuming, and it sparks more fire in my veins, all of it roaring through me like an inferno.
I hear a broken little moan, and a heartbeat later, I realize it came from me.
Malice just kisses me harder, like he wants me to make more of those sounds so that he can swallow up every single one of them.
Time seems to stand still as we’re locked together, and I only realize it’s been a while when my lungs start to burn for air. My head is spinning, but I’d gladly suffocate if it means I get to keep doing this. To keep falling into this incredible high.
But then Malice breaks away, panting hard.
He opens up a small space between our bodies, and his eyes glitter as he looks down at me. He holds himself stiff, as if it’s taking all of his self-control to keep that distance between us and not lunge back in for more.
His eyes flash dangerously, and there’s a twisted look on his face, half anger and half lust. His hands clench into fists, and I hear the knuckles crack, a testament to how hard he’s holding himself back.
“Run,” he grits out, his voice sounding almost wrecked. “Now. Before I…”
He trails off, and when he looks at me again, there’s something in his eyes. Something feral edged with vulnerability, like he’s trying to protect me from himself.
Some part of me doesn’t want to go. Some part of me wants to stay and find out just what he would do to me if I let him.
But a bigger part is clamoring that I’ve already gotten too close to the towering flames, and that I should get away now before I’m burned alive. That thought makes my self-preservation instinct kick in, and I nod shakily, reaching behind me for the door handle.
More light spills into the room when I open the door, and I catch a glimpse of Malice’s face, backlit by the lamp and half in shadow. It makes him look almost monstrous, but there’s something alluringly beautiful about the darkness in his eyes. Something that still calls to me.
But I don’t give in. I slip away from him and out of the garage, darting into the living room and then up the stairs.
I practically jog down the hallway on the second floor, then duck into the bathroom and close the door, staring at my flushed face in the mirror. I barely recognize myself with my tangled hair and kiss bruised lips.
I’ve never looked like this. I’ve neverfeltlike this.
It’s like I’m falling, careening down the side of a cliff. Ever since these men crashed into my life, it’s like I’ve been falling down the rabbit hole, and now I’ve been literally plucked out of my old life. The life I was trying to make for myself.
It terrifies me how far away that old version of myself feels already, like it’s not evenmeanymore.
My impulse is to try to catch myself, to do something to stop the fall. I’ve spent so much of my life just trying to fit in and be ‘good,' whatever that even means anymore.
