He’s once again hidden in the shadows. When he walks through the room, it’s like the darkness clings to him. He is darkness.
I can’t figure out what scares me more—him in the dark, or him in the light.
“I need to take my jeans off. I suppose you’re going to watch me, aren’t you?”
The alcohol is making me feel bold right now. I’m not thinking about consequences or his threats. Even the fear I feel swirling around is muted.
Right now, I feel like I can say or do anything. Like being drunk somehow gives me a protective armor, when in reality, it just makes me more vulnerable.
He leans against my door, his arms crossed as he watches me unbutton my jeans and slide them down my thighs.
“You know,” I start, stumbling as I try to get the pant leg around my foot. Who the fuck invented skinny jeans, and why am I wearing them? “I don’t even know your name.”
“You never asked,” is his reply.
“I’m asking now, kitty cat.”
Finally, I get my foot through the hole and slide my leg out. I straighten and look at my freed leg in victory. One down. One to go.
“You know,” I say again, before he can even open his mouth. “I do quite like calling you kitty cat.”
“But it wouldn’t sound so good when you’re screaming it,” he taunts, his voice a little closer than it was before. I look up to see he's stepped away from the door, his form creeping through the darkness.
I snort. “You don’t think so? I bet I could make it sound good,” I challenge.
It looks like his entire body turns to stone. And that makes me feel even bolder. I slide the other pant leg off, this one going a little smoother than the other.
And then I climb up on the bed, in nothing but a bra and t-shirt and my purple thong.
He gets a good view of my ass, but that’s the least of my concerns. I grab a pillow and straddle it.
“Addie,” he growls his warning. The deep rumble has dampness gathering between my thighs. It’s unfair how his voice has a physical effect on my body, but I guess right now, it works for me.
I grind on the pillow, tip my head back and moan out, “Kitty cat.”
I squeak when I see his hand flying towards my face from my peripheral. The alcohol has sucked away all my reflexes, so when his hand grabs my hair roughly, I can do nothing to stop it.
My back arches as he yanks my head back. His beautifully scarred face appears above mine. Those goddamn yin-yang eyes, with thick lashes framing them.
He’s terrifyingly beautiful. And right now, he looks pissed.
“What?” I breathe out innocently.
He leans down and softly brushes his lips against mine. Electric shocks ignite from where our lips touch. I suck in a sharp gasp, appalled by the reaction his body creates within my own.
“Zade,” he whispers against my lips. “That’s the only name that will ever leave your lips from now on, especially when you’re making that little pussy feel good. And when I’m making that pussy feel good, then you can call me God.”
All the oxygen in my lungs evaporates. If he had given my soul back, it would be gone again.
“I think Lucifer would suit you better,” I whisper, my lips sliding against him as I speak.
A sinful smile flashes across his mouth, baring his straight teeth for a brief second. The one second was a stark reminder in my drunk-addled brain that I have someone very dangerous in my face right now.
And I need to get him away from me.
I arch further back, pulling my face away from his.
“You gonna assault me again? Is it going to be you forcing your dick in my mouth this time?” I spit at him, narrowing my eyes in thin, hateful slits.
“I thought about it,” he admits in a contemplative murmur. “I would love to see you swallow my cock tonight.”
There’s a but, and in my drunken state, I’m almost offended.
I quirk a brow, but even I know it doesn’t have the same effect as him doing it.
“But you’re still inebriated. And you’d vomit all over my cock the second it touched the back of your throat.”
Okay, now I’m really offended.
My mouth pops open in shock. “I would not, you asshole!” I squirm away from him, but he reinforces his hold in my hair and keeps me still.
Always fucking forcing me.
Who could love this man?
He laughs—a dark, cruel laugh. But it also transforms his face right into the devil’s. Handsome and ruthless.
“Are you saying you want to try?” he taunts, his eyes glittering in the moonlight.