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“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice rough but steady. “My good girl.”
Something vicious and hot throbs deep inside me. I feel myself trembling, my body leaning closer to him, as if I have this need to be nearer to him—this odd, alien desire to be touching him, kissing him, curled up inside him.
I mean, what the fuck is this, some hormonal thing that comes after you have sex for the first time?
I can’t stop myself as I draw closer to him, my hands reaching out to grab small handfuls of his hoodie as I lean up, desperate to kiss him.
“I’ll be good for you.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes. For a second, it feels like it did right before he rammed into me—that same dark flicker of hungry need.
Except this is…different, somehow. It’s not hunger or need I see when his jaw clenches. It’s not “dark desire” that I see in his face when he suddenly steps back, as if burned.
He blinks, his throat bobbing heavily.
And then, without another word, he turns and walks away, disappearing around the corner of the hotel hallway.
Okayyy?
I could wonder what the fuck that last part was. Or I could admit that it’sMalwe’re talking about, so… Who the hell knows.
All I know is, my body aches, and even though my mind is a whirlwind of emotions I don’t fully understand, in this moment I know one thing for certain.
“You’re mine.”
He’s right.
And there’s no going back now.
18
MAL
It’sten in the morning by the time I find myself standing on the roof of my loft building, staring out over the city.
The air is crisp, the sun is out. I barely notice.
…Not just because I’m fucking exhausted, either.
I take another long pull from the coffee cup in my hand. I set it down on the railing and run my hands over my face, rubbing the grit from my eyes.
If I keep up these games with Freya, my sleep patterns are going to befucked.
I’ve dug deeper into her now. It’s not just that Freya is a night owl leaning into the whole goth thing way too hard. She’s got a real—albeit, rare—condition that makes sunlight literally toxic to her.
Her defiant refusal to come over the other time makes sense now.
I frown as I take another sip of coffee.
Yes, I looked into her more. Not just to find out how she’s connected to any of the bad shit from my past. I already know all that.
But because she’s under my skin now, more than I care to admit. There’ve been glimmers of that since before last night. ButafterI floored it up to Montreal to chase her andfuck her, she’s been in my head constantly, an echo I can’t shake.
Digging into her, I might add, also entailed smiling darkly as I peered at her web history, scrolling through the filthy, deviant, hardcore shit she likes to read and watch.
Bad girl.
I stand on the roof, staring out at the world below, but all I can see is her face. Her body. The way she looked at me as I left her. The way her lips parted, her breath hitched…
