He chuckles darkly as he presses his palm to the mattress above my shoulder and dips his head. His tongue circles my nipple and my brain damn near backfires at his teasing touch.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his possessive tone only making my heart beat harder.
“I’m no one’s,” I argue, determined to hold my own.
He laughs once more.
“You didn’t let Alex touch you, did you?” My lips purse. He doesn’t need the answer. Clearly, he already knows. “Were you thinking about me while he was trying to tempt you?”
“No,” I state, lying through my teeth.
“And what about Ant? Has he snuck in today to pay you a little visit? Am I getting everyone’s sloppy seconds again right now?”
My arm moves before I’m even aware of it. Reality comes crashing down around me as my palm collides with his blood-splattered cheek. His eyes flare as pain shoots down my arm.
“Oh, Angel. Must you tease me?” he whispers so quietly it makes my stomach tumble into my feet.
“What the hell are you doing?” I squeal when he wraps his hand around my throat and hauls me from the bed. “Daemon?” I demand as he marches for my bathroom.
The second we’re inside, he slams the door closed and locks the door. Then he turns on me with a feral, unhinged look in his eyes which I can’t deny sends a bolt of lust-laced fear straight through me.
He prowls forward, a dark, dangerous cloud surrounding him.
“What’s wrong, Angel? I didn’t think you were scared of me.”
I swallow nervously. “I’m not.”
“So is there another reason you look like a rabbit caught in headlights right now?”
He steps closer, and before I know he’s done it, he’s backed me into the shower, caging me in with his solid body.
His eyes are darker than the dead of night, his nostrils flaring with desire, and his chest heaving beneath his black shirt.
It’s covered in blood, I know it is. But I still can’t find it in myself to be horrified by the state of him. Especially when it’s impossible to ignore the way his cock is straining against his trousers.
I did that.
Me.
I affected the guy who prides himself on being cold, detached, and uncaring.
And he wants me something fierce right now. I can practically taste it in the air between us.
“Nikolas,” I breathe as my back collides with the wall and he doesn’t stop prowling toward me.
His jaw tics as I call him that, his breath catching.
“I’m not scared. But I think you’re a coward.”
His brows pinch in confusion a beat before his anger takes over.
“Wrong,” he spits, suddenly reaching down and pulling something from his ankle.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask, my eyes darting between his and the knife he’s just pulled.
“I killed a man tonight, Angel,” he tells me, his voice flat and cold. “I tortured him until his body couldn’t take it anymore, and I watched as the life drained from his eyes.”
My breathing is so loud it’s embarrassing as I stand there watching him, listening to him confess his sins.