Page 35 of Ink Deep Devotion

But if we resist each other, that malignancy also grows into deprivation, causing this very moment, a wild, feral need just to have one taste.

I could choose to yell at him. He deserves it because of the way he has treated me.

Maybe my greatest strength and weakness is forgiveness. I do absolve him. I want him back. I want back those years we lost, the last moment before he tricked me into thinking he loved another. I want our future in the palm of my hands so I can mold it and tuck it away in a place so hidden it can never be found and tainted.

At first, the shadow doesn’t move, causing me to blink to make sure it’s real.“Dash.” I push the sheets back, feeling his eyes look at my exposed legs, causing the tips of my toes to curl in.

He moves, raising his hand only to blind me with a small flashlight in hand. In a second, he’s in front of my bed, but the light in my eyes halts me from seeing him. He’s the broken prince again, struggling to survive, escaping only for this moment before the tormented king takes hold of his mind and body again.

“I’m sorry.” I say.

His hand wraps around my throat, catching my next breath. Instead of panic, my body ignites in a wildfire. His tongue can hurt me, but his touch never will. It’s healing, and sometimes that process is rougher than others. Some wounds are deeper and need more pressure.

My thighs clench from the heat of his touch. That heartbeat between my legs begins to beat again as wetness coats it.

“I don’t want your excuses.” He hisses, moving the flashlight around my face.

“Let me see you,” I reply, reaching up to grab the flashlight. He squeezes my neck tighter, causing me to grasp his wrist instead.

Maybe it’s better not to talk. Our wounds are still too fresh.

He leans forward as his light shines over my jawline to my neck. Then, the heat of his exhale covers my neck. I choke as his lips press against my shoulder, sliding up to my ear.“Did you hurt yourself, little fox? I know you weren’t a good girl, but tell me how naughty you were.”

Holy fuck! This is new. Dark and twisted, but I’m drinking it down.

“Tell me.” A hot kiss presses on the skin of my neck, then he sucks my skin into his mouth, biting it. It’s as if my flesh was a harp, and one touch of the string could play my entire body.

I sob, feeling the pressure of his bite reach my sex. My thighs close in, wishing they were wrapped around his body instead. Desire and misery buzz around my mind, creating a dangerous cocktail of emotions. I never felt this intensity when I was with Dom. Dom just numbed me. It was easy.

Being with Dash has always been a struggle. It’s like being handed a 1000-piece puzzle box—frustrating, overwhelming, and stimulating. He wakes up my demons, forcing me to endure as he purges them from my body. He scatters me, then sorts me, and then slowly assembles me, piece by piece.

Sometimes, I hate it; I want to throw the puzzle away. I don’t want him to see the whole picture that resembles me. But in theend, that final image might have him locked inside with me, so I let him keep going.

I release his wrist to grab his shoulders, but he jerks back, leaving a hissing coolness where his lips were. My hands are in his, a grip of possession that has me softening in his hold. The light works up and down the tips of my fingers slowly as he looks over every inch of me.

“You think I cut myself when you were gone?” I question with a hint of shame. Does that mean he still cares?

He drops my wrist.“I think you hurt yourself using a different tool. One that repulses me.” His tone is scorching, leaving my body feeling raw and bruised.

“You made me think I was nothing. I’m not the only one to blame here, Dash. You hurt me, too!” I croak, edging closer to him.

“I never said I didn’t!” He roars as he hits his chest.

Would he have apologized had I not slept with Dom?

Why do I know he would have?

I think he would have returned, having defeated the king he was meant to be. He would have shown me the side he tried to hide the last time we locked eyes. He would have been the broken prince, only not as broken.

Please don’t run; let me explain.“What choice did I have? You left me in pieces that you stomped on. I felt! You made me feel, Dash, then you left, and I didn’t know how to handle all the emotions.You made our love feel paper thin instead of ink-deep. You ripped it to shreds.” I thrust my hand in his face, blocking his flashlight.“I didn’t hurt myself with a needle. Didn’t cut my skin because you fixed that! And you know what?”

I shove him hard, like a wave battering against a dam, begging the walls to open so it can be free to destroy, wipe clean, and then rebuild.“Some days, I hated that! I hated that art gave me a release rather than scarring my body because the scars you left on my heart were deeper than any I could have inflicted! The scars you left stained me like ink, and you wrote your signature in the mess.”

I feel my chest rising and falling as my shoulders move inward, trembling like a lock gripped in strong, unforgiving hands, waiting for the possessor to grant it a key to be opened. Open for me! Talk to me!

He doesn’t, so I continue.“Dom made me feel nothing! It was nothing, not even a bandaid to help the aftermath you left. Nothing!” I gasp, exhausted, as my heart clings to a string above a raging fire, slowly burning away each strand until I'm left dangling by one mere fiber. Everything will snap so very soon.

“You felt nothing?” He repeats as he moves gracefully like the moon claiming the night sky.“Opposed to this,” He purrs, keeping the light in my eyes so I can’t see him. His hand slips between my thighs as his fingers brush against my silk pajama shorts. He grunts in both happiness and expectation when he feels the wetness soaking through the fabric.“Did he make you this wet?”

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