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Something happened in that moment, a curtain lifted, and I felt his emotions. He wasn’t only doing this for me or because of the drug. Desire coursed through his veins, and he craved this as much as I did.
His gruff breathing against my neck and the way his fingers worked the bundle of nerves at my core had me so close to falling to pieces. Fane’s teeth scraped against my neck, his tongue gliding over the tattoo from his bite. He shuddered, and something primal came over him.
He bit me in the same spot, right over the tattoo, not enough to break my skin, though.
But the combination of piercing pain and bliss slammed into me, and I screamed. My muscles shook violently as I came, and I would have collapsed if he wasn’t crushing me into the wall.
Ecstasy unfurled, and I arched into him as he continued to prolong the bite. I had no idea if this was a shifter thing or a Fane thing, but my nerve endings were raw and exposed, soaking up every bit of sensuality and stimuli the man had to offer.
By the time reality finally came into hazy focus, Fane had pulled me from the wall and clutched me against him while he leaned one hand on the tiles, breathing raggedly.
Apparently, we’d both felt that explosive release.
“No matter what I do, you like it. It all backfired on me.” His voice rolled out in a husky whisper, his head still buried in the crook of my neck. “But that was the last time, Teague. I’d rather not be the guy you use to act out your twisted sexual fantasies earned from abuse and childhood trauma.”
When his words hit the air, a frigid, arctic wind rushed over me. The heat, the bliss, and even the physical pain had vanished. Invisible talons ripped through my rib cage and right into my heart.
I broke out of his grip, spun, and crushed my fist into his jaw. “Fuck. You.”
His head whipped back around, shadows shrouding his gaze. He didn’t say a word as I stormed out of the shower, my legs so shaky I probably looked like a newborn fawn. I yanked a towel off the hook and wrapped it around my body.
My lungs screamed for air, but I could barely breathe from the anguish lashing at my insides. He’d obviously seen more of my nightmares since we’d been together. He’d witnessed the horrible things that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. And he used it against me.
To hurt me.
Fane stepped out of the bathroom, dripping water all over the floor. His nostrils flared, and his muscles were so tense a tiny flick could shatter him.
“Get out.” I gripped the towel tighter as if it could protect me.
The demon shifter opened his mouth, but I cut him off before one syllable could pass his lips.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” I jerked my hand toward the door.
Fane got the picture and marched out, leaving a trail of water behind. After he shut the door, I ran over and locked it as fast as I could, not that it would actually stop him if he wanted to get in.
A sob slipped out, and I slammed my hand over my mouth as tears spilled down my cheeks. Fane’s presence remained on the other side of the door, and a muffled curse echoed.
“What did you do, Fane?” Logan’s voice flowed down the hall.
The demon shifter didn’t say a word and finally moved away.
My tears came freely as I crawled into the bed, not caring about my wet undergarments or hair. I curled into a ball as I shook. The drugs still slithered through my system, and I wanted to scream because my body craved Fane’s even after his hurtful words.
I hated him, but I hated myself more because it took every bit of control not to go after him. I’d punch him until my knuckles bled. And then I’d beg him to give me more of his pain and pleasure.
He was right. I really was fucked up.
* * *
My stomach letout another angry growl, and I finally opened the bedroom door and peered into the hall. Fane’s presence still choked Logan’s apartment. I’d hoped our shower fiasco last night would have forced the demon shifter to flee the area for a while since I disgusted him so much.
I gritted my teeth against the profanities I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. After being drugged and attacked at Wrath & Ruin, Fane Maverick had used my secrets against me when I was at my most vulnerable.
He’d seen the darkness within me, and I didn’t know how far his knowledge went. Had he witnessed it all or just bits and pieces? Had he glimpsed my memories of the night I slaughtered his monster of a brother?
My hands curled into fists. I hoped so. Seeing me kill Warin would hurt him.
I drew my shoulders back and stepped into the hall, my boots silent on the hardwoods. Instead of wearing anything the bastard bought me, I threw on a pair of old jeans and a snug gray tank top from my bag. The flagrant aroma of tomato, basil, and cheese—what had forced me out of my room—intensified as I traveled down the hallway.
