Page 83 of Cruel When He Smiles
I let the word linger between us, let it settle into his skin, let him feel it. “You don’t like that name?” I continue, keeping my voice light, biting back a grin when I see that animalistic flicker in his eyes. “I think it suits you.”
His jaw clenches so tight I half expect his teeth to crack. “Nate.”
I hum, dragging my fingers up his arm slowly, watching the way his breath stutters. “Yes,Lover?”
His nostrils flare. “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Or what?” I murmur. “What are you gonna do?”
His hand jerks, his eyes flash, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. Then his fingers slip to my throat and dig into my jaw, tilting my face up. His body is pressing into mine, trapping me between him and the wall, while his breath is unsteady.
“Or I’m going to remind you who started this,” he growls, his voice razor-sharp and feral.
I don’t flinch or blink. I just breathe in this version of him that he’s desperately trying not to become. He’s so fucking close, and I can feel every inch of him now, from the flex of his thigh between mine to the tension humming through his chest. There’s a storm crawling under his skin, and I don’t think he knows how to contain it.
Good.
I want him cracked open. I want him exactly like this—untethered, unraveling, and messy. Not the golden boy with a weaponized smile. Not the therapist-in-training with a perfect GPA and a whole student body wrapped around his finger.
I want this Liam—the one breathing hard through clenched teeth, the one whose grip bruises because it’s the only way he knows how to hold on.
“You think you can scare me?” I ask softly, just for him. “You think I don’t know what you are?”
His jaw flexes. “You don’t know shit.”
“I know you’re fucked in the head.” I drag the words out slowly. “I know you like hurting people just to feel something. I know you get off on being in control, and I know you’ve been unraveling since the first time I looked at you and didn’t see the nice guy you pretend to be.”
For the first time since he crawled into my head, I don’t feel like prey. I feel wanted. That’s the part I can’t fucking shake—how much I want to be the one person he loses control for.
“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” he grits out, something feral bleeding into the words. “You think this is a game, Nate? You think you can keep fucking pushing me—”
“Yes.” I cut him off, licking my lips, watching how his gaze drops to my mouth, his pupils blown wide. “I do think that.”
“Don’t.” His voice cracks. There’s something broken underneath it now, something not even anger can hide. “Don’t fucking do this.”
“Too late,” I whisper. “You already let me in. You let me get under your skin, and now you don’t know what the fuck to do with it.”
His breath catches for a split second, then his lips crush against mine. It’s not sweet or gentle. It’s not even hungry.
It’s desperate.
I kiss him back harder, and it’s fucking war.
Mouths colliding, breaths stolen, hands grabbing at the edges of control neither of us really has anymore. It’s brutal, angry, and reckless. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask, it fucking demands.
And I give in because there’s no point in resisting. Not when he tastes like fury and obsession, not when his hands are everywhere. Gripping my hips, yanking me closer, teeth scraping my lower lip like he wants to rip it open.
His tongue invades my mouth like it owns the space. I curl my fingers into his hair, tugging just to hear that growl tear from his throat. He bites my lip in retaliation, pinning me harder to the wall, rutting against me with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs.
“Is this what you want?” he grits between kisses, voice wrecked and breathless. “You wanted to see me lose control? Congratulations, Pup, you've ripped my self-imposed leash away.”
I grin against his mouth and shake my head. “You’re still holding back.”
“You think you can handle it if I didn’t?” he mutters, pressing his mouth to the skin beneath my ear. “You think you want this, but you have no idea what I’ll do if you keep pushing. I’ll ruin you slowly. Beautifully. You’ll beg for more of the same pain you swore you didn’t want.”
I shiver under his touch, but I don’t look away. “Then do it.”
His lips twitch like he doesn’t believe I mean it. So, I pull him close and kiss him until he forgets how to breathe. This time, there’s no push and pull; there’s just need.
