I've never told anyone my story out loud before. Talking about it left me feeling raw, as if I'd picked at a fresh scab. It made me feel foolish too. Why didn't I put the pieces together sooner? Why did I stay after the second time she messed with my brakes? I should have run then.
I don't know why I didn't or what I was waiting for. I guess I didn't want to believe that the woman my dad loved was capable of such evil. But she is. She always has been, I think. She never cried at his funeral. She put on a big act as a grieving widow, but she never shed a single tear.
"You're crying," Dimitri says, reaching out to touch my cheek. A growl rumbles in his chest. "What's wrong, little one?"
"I was thinking about my dad."
"You miss him."
"I miss him every day, and she's probably glad he's gone," I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. I think I hate her for that alone. It's a cold emotion. One I've never felt for anyone before now…but I feel it for her. "I don't even care that she tried to kill me. I hate her for being glad my dad is gone, Dimitri."
"Jesus," he growls, stepping into the suite to pull me into his arms.
Bear immediately growls a warning.
"Bear, stop," I say quietly, burrowing into Dimitri.
"She's okay, Bear. I won't hurt her," he says to my overprotective dog, his voice soft. "She's safe with me."
Bear grumbles but stops growling.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, trying to pull myself back together. I'm not even sure why I'm crying. Perhaps because discovering you're capable of hatred is deserving of tears. It's such a useless, corrosive emotion. "He'll get used to you eventually."
"Don't apologize for him, Magic." Dimitri's lips brush my crown. "I'm glad he's so protective of you. It means you'll always be safe."
"I feel safe." I peer up at him, amazed all over again at how easily he makes me feel that way. I hardly know him, yet I know that I'm safe with him. The same way I know that he's important. The same way I know he's dangerous. The same way I know him. I just know. It makes no sense.
"You are safe." His obsidian eyes hold mine captive. He holds me captive, compelling me a little closer to the dark. It doesn't seem so terrible from here. How can it when people like him and Dante exist in the shadows?
"Fuck," he growls. "I want to kiss you again."
"Do it," I whisper.
Heat flares in his eyes as he pulls me closer, sinking one hand into the thick mass of my hair. He pulls gently, tangling his fingers up in the strands. I gasp, surprised at how good it feels.
His lips curve in a wicked smirk before his mouth descends on mine. This kiss is nothing like his kiss yesterday. It's hotter, darker, as if he's holding nothing back this time. He gives me all of it, drowning me in carnal delight.
My body heats to the nth degree, all those sensations he brought to life yesterday roaring to the surface as if summoned. I gasp as desire surges through me, vast and powerful.
I press closer to him, pulling helplessly at his jacket.
"I dreamed about you, Magic," he growls against my lips. "Did you dream about me?"
"Yes," I confess. I dreamed about him all night, over and over again. He didn't tuck me into bed and then leave me in my dreams. He stayed. He crawled into bed with me. He kissed me again, touched me again.
"Good girl," he breathes, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth. His free hand slides down my body, palming my bottom. He kneads my cheeks, his grip possessive and sure. "Did I take care of the pain this time, little one?"
"I…I…" My cheeks heat, the truth sticking in my throat.
"I did, didn't I?"
I shake my head.
He groans as if he's in pain right now, pressing his forehead to mine. "I left you hurting in your dreams?"
"Yes," I whisper. "You t-touched me but you w-wouldn't let me g-get there."
"Unacceptable," he grunts, walking me backward until my back hits the wall. "Dream me is a prick, little one." He nips my throat and then lifts his head, his obsidian eyes meeting mine. "I'm going to fix it."
"I…" I get tangled in his gaze and forget to breathe. It's so fierce, so radiant.
He places his palm flat against my belly and then slowly slides it downward. "You're going to come on my fingers, Snow. I want to watch it take you."
"Dimitri," I whisper, my legs trembling. "I…I've never…."
"You've never what, little one? Never been touched?"
"No."
"Good." Satisfaction blazes in his eyes. "Then I won't have to hunt down and kill every motherfucker who ever touched what belongs to me, Magic." He cups my center, grinding his palm against me until I cry out. "This is mine now, Snow."