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“Because you’re my redemption, too. And the one fucking soul on this earth who has a chance of cleansing me enough to keep me out of hell when I finally take my last breath. You always have been.”
I stop fighting to get free. Our breaths mingle. A hand moves to the back of my head and closes the small distance between our lips. His breaths quicken. Those perfect lips I crave to taste brush over mine and I’m thrown right back to his bedroom that night I snuck into his bungalow, his warm body coaxing mine to follow him into the darkness.
Blood surges to my head and for a brief second everything but him, his warmth, and the last of him on my tongue clouds my senses. He kisses me like a man starved for something only I can offer.
Gentleness turns savage. My hand comes to rest over the one holding my chin in place. A masculine groan releases a more feminine one from me. A caress of a tongue over mine and I give the man what he wants. His grip on my hair tightens. I might as well be chained to him.
Between us I’ve forgotten the blade until he reaches for it, tossing it aside. The slight metal clatters to the ground. Teeth graze the side of my chin and over the tender flesh of my neck. He pauses my chin to the side. Instant shudders rake through me when his lips linger over the rampant thudding of my pulse.
I’m not ready for the onslaught of emotions that such a gentle touch does to my resolve.
“No. You can’t have it both ways. You just can’t.” But my eyelids drift to rest over my cheeks. My chest heaves with renewed lust. Infuriating lust, damn it. I can’t want this man. Yet, my hands clutch me to him.
“Why can I not be in both heaven and hell, Asena? You’ve tortured me and given me purpose to live.” His voice is laced with poisonous rage, his moving lips over my heated skin a complete contrast.
“Don’t you fucking dare say that,” I warn in a harsh whisper. “You left me. Your hell was self-inflicted.”
I try to move but I’m not going anywhere until he’s had his say. His domineering control over my movements makes me want to slap him and give in to his wishes all in the same breath.
“I saved you from the shell I became. You need to see that.”
I see nothing.
“What are you? Some nobleman. I could have helped you.”
“You would have died. Your death would have ignited a fury in me the world would not have withstood. I did us all a favor by keeping my distance.”
I rip away from him. When my feet hit cold marble, I put as much distance between us as I can. It hurts. I want to be in his warm embrace, but his words drive an invisible blade into my heart the longer he speaks. To keep from shivering and from looking at the blood on my hands, I tuck them around my middle. Chilled air seeps into my bones. The cold of the grave always lingers, ready to reach out at any time.
I storm across the room and start to wash my hands. Pink water sluices down a white sink.
“You have no idea what I endured at the hands of those monsters.” I lather, rinse. Repeat. I want to be furious but all I can muster suddenly is to feel heartstruck.
I peer over my shoulder. Those dark eyes of his hold me captive from across the room. “You think I didn’t consider raging back into your life, stealing you, and then killing every last motherfucker there just to take my revenge?”
This man drives me to want my hand permanently imprinted on his cheek.
I throw my wet hands up in frustration, water going everywhere. “I don’t know, did you? Because that night you died to me. I didn’t know there were other options. Maybe I could have fought for you, too. Did you think of that?”
I cross to him and by some fortune of his, I manage not to grab another scalpel to punctuate my words with. “You left me at my father’s mercy. You never came for me. Worst of all, you let me think you were dead.” I let my gaze rove over his body. “Do you not get what that did to me?”
One second passes.
Two.
“As I said, you were better off without me in your life. Trust me.”
Those words make me want to murder. Like every other man in my life, this infuriating asshole thinks he knows what is best for me.
“Trust you? Fuck you, John Hark. You people have been telling me that all night. I don’t trust a damn soul.” Hurt and anger curl my fingers into fists. I step up to him and thrash them against him, and he takes every last lash of my fury unflinching.
An arm encircles me and I’m pulled into a warm chest, my fists pinned between us.
A large hand cups the back of my head as I let the tears of death, violence, and pain overwhelm me.
“Shh. Just breathe. Just breathe, Asena.”
Why? When all I want to do is give in to the pain and let the darkness take me from this earth.
