CALLI
My heart thunders in my chest as his dark, evil eyes stare down at me with wicked intent flickering within them.
My nostrils flare as I try to suck in the air I need.
He brushes his fingertips down the side of my neck and my entire body jolts as sparks shoot through me. The delicate touch is so gentle compared to the brutal man before me. Lifting one arm that’s lying uselessly on the bed, I wrap my fingers around his forearm, unsure if my intention is to stop him or encourage him.
His body is covered in dark, dried specks of blood.
It should terrify me. But I’ve been a part of this life long enough, even if I have been kept away from the worst of it. Nothing the guys or our fathers do scares me now. I can’t say it’s always been that way, but in the past few months, I’ve come to realise, embrace even, that this is my life. Standing out on the firing range with a gun in my own hand as Stella instructed me on how to do it probably helped.
I felt invincible with that weapon clutched in my hand. And I’m sure it was just a small rush compared to what the guys get when they go running into enemy territory, taking out those who wronged us.
His fingers continue to trail lower, his eyes following them as they brush over the swell of my breast.
My breath catches as my chest begins to heave.
A warning rumbles in my throat, but it has little impact as he circles one finger around my nipple.
“Did you make yourself come after I left last night?” he growls. The order he gave me before he left me on my kitchen counter crying his name and shamelessly begging for more repeats in my mind.
My eyes widen. I can’t tell him no. I might not have touched myself. But when I woke this morning…
He shakes his head and tsks in disappointment.
“I thought you were a good girl, Angel. You shock me at every turn.” His voice is rough and deadly, and it only makes me burn hotter for him.
He left me wanting last night. If he was trying to prove how much I craved him despite his fucked-up actions over the weekend, then he definitely got what he wanted as I writhed and begged for him.
You’re a shameless slut, Callista, I chastise myself.
But it’s Daemon. There’s something about him that makes me lose my mind in a way I don’t with others. With Ant, with Alex, there’s always some kind of wall stopping me from going too far. But all rational thoughts seem to fly right out the window when it comes to my devil boy.
He shatters my walls, crashes through the image of innocence everyone likes to paint of me, and he does nothing short of bringing me to ruin for him.
“Your body craves me, doesn’t it, beautiful?” he groans, desire deepening his voice before it completely changes, ice cutting through the heat. “Do you react this way with them?”
I shake my head—well, as much as I’m able to while pinned beneath his unforgiving grip.
“Were your nipples begging for my brother’s touch just like they are for mine now?”
“No,” rumbles in my throat as he drags the fabric of my vest down, exposing me to him.
The cool rush of air that assaults me only makes my nipples harder, more desperate for the touch he’s denying me.
He blows a stream of cool air over my heated skin and my back arches off the bed.
“They think you’re so innocent, huh? But we know the truth, don’t we? You’re not just an angel. You’re my dark, dirty, delicious angel.”
“Daemon…” His name is nothing more than a moan as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.
“You’re not even scared, are you?” he asks, glancing down at himself.
My eyes hold his, begging him to remove his hand so I can respond.
“Scream and you’ll be punished,” he warns, reading my demands.
The second his hand moves, I hiss, “I’m not scared of you.”