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He bared his teeth. “Shut up, Ilyana, before I lose my temper.”
Do it.
Lose it.
You need to break.
He couldn’t keep bottling everything in.
Gagging on his darkness.
The softness in my head arrowed straight at his discomfort. I didn’t try to second-guess. I trusted the nudges inside me. “You’ve missed her your entire life, haven’t you? There’s no difference between missing someone alive or missing them when they’re dead.”
“Fucking hell.” He glowered as if he wanted to smother me with a pillow. “Shut up—”
“Or what? You’ll hurt me?” I giggled. Even to my ears, I sounded a little—a lot—crazy. “You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid. Not sure I could handle anything else.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he snapped through clenched teeth.
I laughed again, finding everything freaking hilarious and horrible. “But you will hurt me again.” The drugs chose that moment to swarm me. “You’ll hurt me because that’s your loooove language.” I shrugged with an unbecoming snort. “Your love language is pain.” I burst into peals of giggles. “Wonder if there’s a love bible for a sadist? Lesson number one on how to show affection for your slave: whip them until they’re moaning for you, then kiss them stupid.”
I moaned with need, then laughed and laughed and laughed.
If I didn’t laugh, I’d try to seduce him.
And I wasn’t that far gone…yet.
Unfortunately, Henri did not find me the least bit funny.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
So tortured.
So beautiful.
So wrong.
“Come closer and kiss me,” I murmured.
Ily, stop it!
I didn’t care.
I wanted his lips on mine.
I needed his body filling, stretching—
“Please, kiss me.”
He shot to his feet and latched his hands behind his neck. “I can’t be around you when you’re like this.”
Poor man.
Poor tortured monster.
“I’ll kiss you and make it all better. How about that?” I drifted around on my cloud made of GHB. “You’re so hopeless, Henri.”
He staggered.
