“Are you turned on by the prospect of being hurt, ma belle?” I smirk, drawing out the words slowly.
“You wish.”
“You did come by nipple pain just now. Does the thought of pain make you soaked?”
She purses her lips but says nothing to deny or to confirm.
“You know.” I slide my phone into the pocket of my trousers and reach my fingers to lift her chin.
Her lips are pink, full, and have this heart shape that could use some devouring or could be wrapped around Ron Astor the Second — I’m not picky.
She glares at me as if she wishes she could bite my eye out with her teeth. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a bit crazy, and fuck me, it’s starting to grow on me.
“You don’t have to hide it. I can feel your arousal on my stomach and smell it in the fucking air.”
She clenches her thighs then loosens them with the intent to come down. I slam her against the wall again.
The moment she gasps, I crush my lips to hers. She tastes like…madness, the type you can never get away from or with. It’s the type that gets under your skin, and soon enough, you don’t know whether you’re losing your sanity or your life.
Her lips tremble as if she doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. Her tongue moves tentatively against mine before it stops. She doesn’t kiss me back, but I don’t allow her the chance to.
For the first time in my life, I fucking feast on someone. Using my grip on her jaw, I squeeze it open so I can claim her tongue, bite it with my teeth, suck it with my lips. I steal her breath and her damn sanity just like she’s been doing with me.
She stirred up my ugly side, and now she has to become its target.
I, Ronan Astor, the most attentive lover you could ever find, want to break someone — but not just anyone.
Her.
I want to smash her tiny body against mine until she can never find an escape. And I want her to enjoy every second of it.
Tiny teeth latch onto my lower lip then bite — hard. Both of us taste the strong metal as she shoves away from me.
In her attempts to pull
away, she stumbles to her unsteady feet. I expect her to fight me, to curse me, but she simply stares at my lips, at the blood she left there, as if she can’t look away. Then she wipes the blood off hers, still not breaking eye contact with my lips.
It’s like she’s in a trance and can’t break free.
Seeming to realise that, she turns around, and as I warned her she would, she runs.
It’s useless, though. She can’t run away anymore.
Different times. Different circumstances.
They say you should find what you love and keep it close.
The same can be said about what you hate.
8
Teal
I don’t know how I get home.
One moment I’m running out of the club, and the next I’m hiding under my covers.
My breathing is choppy and harsh even though it’s been an hour since I arrived at my room. Even longer since his hands were on me, and yet that’s the only thing my body thinks of.