Page 48 of Psycho Sinners

He stilled, dipping his head closer as he dragged his lips over my neck, then pulled back, his eyes narrowed.

“When did you last shower?”

“Why?” I sighed.

He scrunched up his nose as he sat back, a look of disgust on his face. “You need to shower.”

“Why?”

Apparently my lack of emotions was infuriating, and he lurched off the bed, hoisting me to my feet and causing me to stagger as I found my footing.

“You’re going to shower.”

“The deal was I only had to tend to you guys, nothing about myself,” I muttered.

He made a sound of contempt as he dragged me to my bathroom.

“You want to try to find loopholes, kitten? I can start showing you how rough I can be. Get in there and shower,” he snapped as he shoved me before the shower.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

I flinched as he slammed his hands onto the shower glass on either side of my head, pinning me against it with his body.

“Don’t play games, kitten. You will lose, I promise you that. And these games, they aren’t games you want to lose, trust me.” His voice was deathly low, those eyes carrying a promise that his words rang true. That these games could wind up with my fire extinguished completely.

Maybe that…

I shoved the dark thought aside, not wanting to spiral even further.

“After all, I still haven’t had you covered in red.” His hand caught my chin, holding my face in place as those dark eyes devoured me.

I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat as the edge of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“Now, shower.”

He released my face, his hand dropping to his side. I ground my teeth, waiting a moment before accepting he was going nowhere. I tugged my clothes off, turning my back to him, finding the move both awfully satisfying and terrifying. I didn’t want to see his wretched face, but having him behind me, knowing how crazy he was, it wasn’t exactly thrilling either.

I climbed into the shower, letting the warm water wash over me while I began to bathe, pretending he wasn’t just outside the glass, watching me with a burning gaze.

I wanted to take my time, to take some comfort in the warm pressure of the water, but his presence shortened that, and I was done in minutes, not bothering to shave before pushing the glass door open.

The mirrors were fogged up, the air humid and thick, and Cristian stood there, his arms folded as he leaned on the sink like a parent making sure their rebellious child did their chores.

I wrapped the towel around me, glaring hard at him, causing him to scoff with that frustrating smug expression.

“Teeth, kitten,” he stated as he stepped aside from the sink.

I pushed past him, some of my fire returning after the shower that had woken me up.

I got to work brushing my teeth, refusing to look at him in the mirror as I swiped my hand over it to stare at myself. My own blue eyes looked tired and haunted, and I hated the sight.

One month was suddenly a very long time, and I was struggling.

I spat once I was done, and froze as I felt my towel get yanked away.

“There, isn’t that better, kitten?”

I shuddered as he stepped up behind me, his hand snaking up my back and making my skin prickle.

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