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His perfect lips wrapped around me are only heightened by the fact that he’s got blood splattered on his neck, the droplets spreading up his chin and on his cheeks. Blood freckles. They’re the best kind.
Before he moves to stroke me with his crimson coated hands, I pull him up.
“You can’t taste this blood, Kas. It’s not mine.”
I take a washcloth and wash his hands and arms before he grabs it and does the same for me.
“Does that mean I can taste yours? You only ever let me taste my own.”
I contemplate for a minute, rinsing my hair out as I continue to watch him. “I’ve never been on the other side of a blade.”
He eyes the thick scar on my neck. “You never told me what happened there.”
With a deep inhale, I blow out the air in my lungs and say, “Self-inflicted. I was young and starting to have these urges and thoughts. I knew something was wrong with me, but I fought it for so long. I wanted to see the blood. I wondered what the blade would feel like against my skin because I wanted to know what other people would feel if I ever got to that point. I didn’t have much control then. Didn’t know how to handle a knife as sharp as the one I got my hands on. It went deep and I had to come up with a lie to tell my parents.”
“You know I won’t go too deep,” he says. “Just the tip,” he finishes with a smirk.
“Okay.”
His eyes widen and his lips part. “Are you serious? I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”
“You better do it before I change my mind.”
He shuts off the water and steps out of the wet room, stopping in front of the mirrors to grab some towels. When he turns, he notices the cuts on his back from our time in the kitchen.
“What does it say?” he asks, getting closer. “I thought it was just random.”
“Nothing I do is random,” I say, toweling my hair off.
“I’m sort of random and you do me,” he says with a grin. I just wait for him to read the letters backward in the reflection. “Mine.”
His eyes land on my face, emotion behind them I can’t quite read. “You’re mine. That’s nothing new.”
He studies me for several seconds before looking back at the cuts that are beginning their scarring process. “I don’t know why I’d ever doubt you.”
“Because we have trust issues. We’ll continue to have problems and fights, but you’re always going to be mine, Kaspian. You think I’d let anybody else have you? Touch you? Hurt you?”
He growls. “You’re gonna make me say things you don’t wanna hear,” he says with a sly grin. He steps forward and grabs my ass while kissing me. “Meet me in the bedroom.”
“Hurry up,” I say as I walk out of the bathroom and start descending the stairs.
In the bedroom, before I can lay down, Kas comes rushing in, throwing down towels and placing a few metal instruments on the nightstand.
“What’re those?”
“Scalpels.”
“Since when have you had scalpels?”
“I’ve had them for a little while. Just waiting for this moment. Lie down.”
I do as he says, eyeing him with curiosity as he starts reaching for things.
“Are you performing surgery now? Because I’d like to keep all of my organs.”
“I’d never take any of the important ones,” he says with a wink. “Look, I’m an artist. If I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it in the most precise way possible.”
“I’m sorry my cuts aren’t up to your standards,” I say sarcastically.
