nothing he said could ever hurt me. But it does.
He does. And his nostrils flare as if savoring the scent of that pain.
“In fact, I could just tell you everything,” he adds. “You wouldn’t even know what to believe or not. Like maybe I do remember that night on the road, Ada-Maria. I remember how fucking angry I was to see you there. I could have wrapped my hands around your throat then and there, and your papa would be none the wiser. What if I always sensed you beyond the trees at night? I could smell you on the wind even if I never saw you… Or hell, maybe I was the one watching you, following Don Roy’s orders to an extent, but everything beyond that was of my own volition. I’d see you with those men, hunt you down while you were alone with them. Sneak a glimpse of you in any way that I could and memorize every inch of that body. You’d never know the fucking difference.”
He’s right, and my head is spinning, trying to keep up with his many twisted narratives. The only way to salvage what little sanity I have left is to close my eyes, blocking him out.
The second I do, he applies more pressure to the hand he has around my neck. Enough to make my eyes bulge, my lids springing open again.
“You were always mine, Ada-Maria. You just never realized it. You still don’t—not the lengths I will go through to keep you mine. The harm I will do to any man who dares to defile you. Take you. Harm you. You looked at your fantasy Domino with childish love once, but frankly, Ada, you have no idea what that concept means. None. Love is agony, you see. It is cruel obsession. It leaves no choice in whether you want it or not. It is all-consuming. So when I tell you to beg me to keep you, I want you to realize that you already have. Just by listening to me now with that hungry look on your face. Just by humoring the feel of my body next to yours and letting me shove my tongue inside of that greedy pussy. From day one, you’ve been begging.”
He strokes my cheek in a motion that feels cruelly gentle. Then he tilts my head and lowers his mouth to mine.
The kiss catches me off guard, firm and possessive.
My thoughts scatter, common sense far beyond my reach—so it’s entirely out of reflex that I sink my teeth into his tongue. Rather than recoil, he grunts, leaning into the motion, making it a part of the kiss itself. I taste blood as he sucks at me. Devours me.
Somehow, I release him, knowing I need to break away. Push him off. Run.
His hands are already gliding down my hips, drawing me into him. I’m breathless when our lips finally pull apart, but he’s the one in control of the action, blood smeared across his lower lip.
“I don’t need to hear it,” he reiterates gruffly, in between heavy pants. “But I want to—beg me to protect you.”
I use both hands to push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “Go to hell.”
“Gladly.” He pushes back, forcing my hands aside as he brings his mouth within inches of my own. “I’ll meet you there. Because what we are, Ada? It sure ain’t heavenly.” He runs his thumb across my mouth, thrusting it between my lips without warning. “It’s sinful.”
I spit him out and contemplate slapping him again. Instead, I say, “We aren’t anything, and I’ll never beg you for a damn thing. Except to let me go.”
“And you might get your wish.” His expression shifts, becoming even more indecipherable than I’m used to. He is all shadow and gold. “You are an expensive woman to keep, far more than you know.”
He lets that cryptic phrase hang in the air as he turns away, his shoulders rigid. “It would be easier to let him have you. Far better in the long run. And you…” He looks back at me, his eyes dark and shadowed. “You’re so good at fucking pretending, you wouldn’t even notice, would you? If he were touching you instead of me—” He’s back, dragging me against him no matter how violently I resist. My nails dig into his forearms, and I kick, wincing as the sores on my feet throb at full force. He’s unmovable, easily able to maneuver me away from the wall, across the