tighten against the sides of my face and I reach up, placing my own hands atop his.
“You glow from the inside out,” Oscar whispers, and then he does something I never expected: he drops his mouth to mine.
I’ve been hit before, many times. In many fights. By many people, much, much bigger than I am.
None of those incidents knocked me back in quite the same way as Oscar Montauk’s kiss.
His kiss is one of shadows and spiders, of darkness and strands of old moonlight woven into webs. When I kiss him, I can taste both his violence and his desperate need for love. There’s a void inside of him, one that’s even bigger than the one inside of me.
Nobody has ever taken care of him.
Nobody has ever loved him—except for Havoc.
Except for … me.
“Since elementary school,” I murmur against his ice-cold slash of mouth. Oscar doesn’t let me finish, kissing me harder, pushing me back. I stumble a bit, but he keeps me upright, guiding me where he wants me to go.
The backs of my calves hit the side of the couch, and then I’m going down.
With Oscar on top of me.
Shit, shit, shit, Bernie, you’re on your period; you’re bleeding. I tell myself all of that, but it doesn’t matter. This is happening. It has to happen. It needs to happen, and it’s happening now.
Oscar cups the back of my head in his sinful fingers, his tongue taking over my mouth, his long, lean body between my thighs. I’m so surprised and excited by the fact that he’s actually letting me touch him that my hands begin to wander all over his body, finding his strong shoulders, sliding down his arms.
When I find the little metal swords pierced through his nipples, I give them a tug with both hands.
The sound that escapes that man’s throat undoes me completely. I moan in response, thrusting my hips up against his pelvis, feeling his right hand slide up my waist toward my breast. As soon as he grabs ahold of it, he growls.
“Thought you liked bigger boobs than mine,” I snap back at him, flushed from head to toe and shaking all over. Oscar pauses briefly, lifting his gray eyes to mine. I lift my hands up and grab his glasses, pulling them aside so that I can look into his eyes without interruption. I need to see them without a protective cover, bare and endless and deadly.
This man killed two people today. The thought should be sobering; it’s not.
“Bernadette, you have huge fucking tits. You must be kidding me? You were intended to read between the lines.” He bites my lower lip as his words settle over me. He said he liked bigger breasts; there aren’t many girls with bigger breasts around that don’t have implants.
Oscar is an asshole.
“I hate you,” I grind out between clenched teeth, but it’s impossible to maintain that caustic vitriol in my voice, not with him caressing my breasts the way he is, like he’s savoring the weight of them. My thumbs trace over his nipples, teasing the metal pieces and flicking them back and forth until Oscar responds the way I want him to by thrusting against me. “The blood …” I murmur, but he shushes me with another kiss, one that bites, one that cuts.
I’m wearing a loose pair of basketball shorts that I stole from Aaron. Oscar soon finds his way to them, pushing them over my hips. His fingers delve between my legs, finding that hot, wet heat.
Normally, I’m not one to get shy during sex, but I can’t seem to keep the flush off my face as Oscar slides two, long fingers into my cunt. His eyes meet mine, and my throat gets tight with emotion. I’m bleeding all over him and my body feels even more raw than usual, the ache between my thighs nearly painful.
With his other hand, Oscar shoves my shirt up so that he can see my bare breasts.
The way he exhales makes my body clamp down around his fingers in excitement.
“The devil take me,” he mutters, dropping his face down toward my chest. At the last second, he flicks gray eyes up to my face. I can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his usual coldness and biting wit, but it doesn’t work. His face is a mosaic of need and tenderness. Oscar’s sharp tongue flicks out, wrapping my nipple and sucking it into his mouth. Those lips of his are just as acerbic and deadly