Page 34 of Beautiful Scar

“There she is,” he says, sounding jubilant. What the hell is wrong with this guy? “You filthy fucking girl. Go ahead, bite me again.”

I whimper with arousal and anger. My tongue presses forward, rolling around his skin. I taste blood—did I actually break skin?

I suck gently, licking at the little tooth wound.

He groans. Our eyes are locked. It’s the most erotic moment of my life.

Then I bite him again.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, baring his teeth. This time, he releases my wrists with his other hand and slips his thumb from my mouth. He rubs the little wounds right below his knuckle. “That’s the little animal I know you’ve been hiding under that prissy exterior.”

“Let me go back to my room,” I say, licking my lips. I still taste his blood on my tongue.

“You have to understand, I’m a broken, fucked-up man. I don’t deserve a pretty little thing like you. There’s no pity in me anymore.” He grabs my hand and holds it tight. He pulls me close and leans down to speak softly in my ear. “Next time, try to bite it off. Otherwise, it’s not nearly painful enough.”

I shiver at the thought ofnexttime—almost like he wants me to hurt him.

He drags me to the door and pushes it open. Panic threatens to overwhelm me. The evening is cool and comfortable, but I feel too exposed in my low-cut dress. My heels clack on the front stoop. Down at the street, Damian’s parked and waiting. He tips his cap at me, smiling.

“Wait,” I say, desperately searching for a way out. “Let’s make a deal.”

Tigran pauses at the top of the steps. “What deal?”

“The baby,” I say, latching onto the only thing I know for sure that he wants. “If you let me stay here, I’ll give you the baby.”

It’s only after the words leave my mouth that I understand what they mean.

Let you fuck me. Let you take my virginity.

Let you get me pregnant.

He stiffens. His shoulders tense. I feel him looking at me, and I want to melt into the concrete.

Or hide back under my covers and glide my fingers into my pussy while sucking my thumb and pretending it’s his.

“We’ll start tonight,” he says, his tone rough. “And the heads of the family will come here to meet you over the next few days.”

“I pick my own clothes.”

“All right. We have a deal then.” He turns to face me. His hand tightens in mine. There’s something horrible in his eyes—something dark and bleak. Like he knows this is going to be the death of us.

Then, with a terrible wrenching of metal and a chest-pounding rush of air, the car explodes.

I barely have time to react before Tigran grabs me against him and throws his body on top of mine. Fire streaks into the air and pieces of debris land nearby. He grunts once as glass scatters around us.

Car alarms blare, but they sound like they’re underwater. My ears are ringing desperately.

“Dasha,” Tigran says, pulling back. Blood streaks down his face. There’s a cut across his scalp, oozing along his skin. “Are you okay? Dasha?”

I’m dazed, but nothing hurts. “I’m fine,” I say and can barely hear myself. “What happened? Tigran, what happened?”

He pulls himself to his feet and looks back. Pain flashes across his face as he holds me tightly against him. Mourning and rage too, as his lips pull into a snarl.

“Damian,” I say, understanding. “He might be?—”

“You’re all that matters,” Tigran yells, kicking the front door open and dragging me inside.

He barks orders as the house guards gather around him. Vito appears and guides me back up into my room. The old manchecks me over carefully for wounds and sits with me for a little while as the sound of chaos unfolds outside.

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