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I stood, and Dornan handed me a glass of water. I drank it all, and he took the glass from me again.
He held my shoulders as I stared up at him, I saw that animalistic look in his eyes that usually meant one thing. Oh, Jesus. I couldn’t. Not now. I burst into tears, shaking my head frantically as I pushed him away.
‘I just want to hold you,’ he said. He pressed my arms to my sides as he crushed me once more, an embrace that took away my breath and left me gasping. He kissed me on the top of my head, and I shivered at the intimacy. He doesn’t want to fuck me, I realised with a start, suddenly understanding that I’d misread that fierceness in his eyes. He wanted to comfort me. I pressed my face into him, breathing in the leather and salt air smell that seemed to cling to him. His arms were so strong, his embrace so tender, that it almost brought me to tears.
After a moment, he released me, tipping my chin up with his finger so I had to meet his gaze.
‘You’re so pale,’ he said, cupping my jaw in his hand. ‘You’re wasting away, Ana.’
I swallowed back the rock in my throat, a couple of tears welling out of my eye and splashing down onto my cheek.
He’s trying to protect me from this monstrous world.
That singular thought spun around and around in my head, like some grotesque merry-go-round, gaudy flashing lights in shades of bloody red. I leaned into him as he brushed his thumb against my cheek. It confused the hell out of me that he would risk everything to protect me. It made me uncomfortable, because I liked it.
‘You never let me go outside,’ I whispered, nestling my face into his grasp. I was sad. I was so very, very sad. And I was pale, he was right. No sun and a life spent wallowing in the artificial world he had constructed for me meant my bronzed, sun-kissed skin had dulled to a sickly white pallor.
I was trapped. Forever. Within a world that dealt in lives and in blood. I was sinking deeper and deeper into an abyss that was claiming me, one drop of blood at a time. One day soon I was going to drown in all that blood.
He kissed me, and I hesitated a moment too long. Stupid girl. His grip on my neck tightened, becoming painful. I pleaded for him to let go with my eyes, but he didn’t waver.
‘Tell me what you’re thinking right now,’ he commanded. I was too afraid to lie. I was too afraid, in that moment, of the possibility that he was already reading my thoughts.
He loosened his grip enough for me to take in a small breath and whisper my response.
‘I’m scared,’ I said, tears slipping down my face.
‘Mmm-hmm,’ he said, pressing me to the wall, trailing rough, forceful kisses up my neck. Pressing his lips through the salty tears and onto my skin. Marking me. Because I was his.
‘What else?’ he asked, between kisses. His breath was hot on my cold skin, and I shivered violently.
I choked. ‘Don’t make me say it,’ I pleaded, utterly broken. I thought again about the dead accountant downstairs and wanted to be sick.
‘What else?’ he repeated, squeezing my neck again.
‘I think I love you,’ I whispered, bursting into tears. I didn’t know if I meant it. God, I was so close to the brink of insanity, I could feel the imaginary straitjacket being laced up at my back. But the things I felt for this man, the way he made my heart beat furiously, the thrill he sent through me whenever his fingers brushed against my skin — there was no denying the things we provoked in each other.
He smiled. A delighted look that held my entire existence within it. Because I was his. And there was nothing I could do about it. I tensed as he gripped the back of my head, relaxing when I realised he was only bringing my face to his shoulder. A gesture that was meant to be comforting.
‘Of course you do,’ he said, running his thumb along my lower lip. At that moment, there was a sharp rap on the door. I recoiled as I heard Emilio’s voice.
Dornan stepped away from me as Emilio unlocked the door, letting it swing open.
‘Am I interrupting?’ he asked, one eyebrow cocked as he looked from Dornan to me and back again.
Dornan shoved me hard enough that I hit the wall. ‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Can’t a man get his cock sucked in private around here?’
I fixed my face into a blank stare — my favourite expression around Emilio, it seemed — and sat back down on the edge of the bed. My cheeks burned as I waited for Emilio to hurry up and leave the room and put me out of my gut-wrenching anxiety.
‘You shot the lying bitch?’ Emilio asked Dornan, obviously referring to the accountant.
Dornan nodded, gesturing to the blood that was spattered over his skin. ‘Yeah, Pop,’ he said. ‘And now I’m gonna take a fuckin’ shower.’
He left the room, brushing past Emilio, who didn’t budge from where he stood in front of me. I didn’t dare look up at him, but the weight of his stare burned into my skin.
‘Cholita,’ he said finally. I pressed my palms flat on the bed on either side of me to stop them from shaking.
‘Yes, sir,’ I responded, meeting his cold black eyes.
