Page 93 of Dance of Ruin

Although tonight it’s not that random.

In the near total darkness of my bedroom, I turn to the side, a curious feeling washing over me as my eyes slide over her, lying beside me.

I’ve never done this before.

Not the sex. Or the domination.

I mean thesleeping.

I’ve never actually fallen asleep beside a woman. Ever. I’ve never let one get close enough to share the dark, quiet hours when my thoughts turn feral and the black thoughts bleed in.

But I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours in this bed with Naomi, and I haven’t wanted to leave it once.

We’ve been here ever since I fucked her on stage last night, losing myself entirely in her. After that, I took her back here, and that is where we’ve stayed.

Fucking likeanimals.

She had today off, which is good, because I’m pretty sure she can't stand, let alone dance. I’m no better: “sore” is a fucking understatement. So are “chafed”, “bruised”, and “severely fucking dehydrated.”

My body feels like it’s been throughwar.

And Naomi?

I let my eyes slide over her skin in the dim light from the evening city gleaming behind the shades.

Jesus Christ.

She looks like she owed a Vegas gangster money and couldn’t pay.

Purple covers her wrists, hips, and thighs. There are maul-marks on her breasts, and more bruises on her throat. Not to mention the ones on her ass shaped like my palms.

Fuck me. I grin savagely just thinking about it. She brings out something in me I’ve never felt before. Not to this level, I mean, not by a fucking mile.

It’s an animalistic hunger.

An obsession.

She makes me insatiable. Consumed with mad need for her.

And it’s like she herself craves all the unhinged madness that she creates in me. Feeds off it. Whatever I give, she pushes for more.

Whatever boundary IthinkI’m pushing, she tells me to push it farther.

I’m not sure if she’s created a monster in me, or if it’s the other way around.

She’s asleep now—barely covered by the sheet, one thigh thrown over mine, staking her claim. Her lips are parted, lashes dark against her flushed cheeks. She looks ruined.

She looksperfect.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I reach for it without waking her, and my face tenses when I read the silent alert flashing across the screen.

MOTION DETECTED – UNIT 47A – 3RD FLOOR ENTRY.

Fuck.

Ever since Mario told me about the Obsidian Syndicate clashing with Leonard Kim for trying to break his contract with them, I’ve had a bad feeling building in my chest.

If they’re after Leonard, Naomi’s a target, too.

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