Page 53 of Tortured Soul
I took the blade and the cream from his hand. “Climb on the bike.”
He arched his brow, but did as I asked. “Why?”
I climbed on too and sat half on the fuel tank, half on his lap, facing him. “Because you’re a giant and I don’t want to cut you. We’re more leveled like this.”
His hands automatically found their place on my thighs. We’ve done this before, a long time ago. We couldn’t always find mirrors when we were moving around, and the more his curse progressed and madness settled, the more little things like itchiness made him lose his mind.
“Admit it,” I whispered with a smile, spreading a little cream on his face with the tip of my finger. “You knew I couldn’t resist doing this and that’s why you came here.”
He pinched my thighs with a dry chuckle, but his eyes were closed in appreciation, his head tipped back. “When it’s you, I don’t have to stare at my madness in a mirror. My reflection looks different in your eyes.”
My throat tightened, but I didn’t stop spreading the mixture on his face.
“Is it weird thatthisis one of the things I miss the most?” he asked, almost purring under my touch. “You, taking care of me. Helping me fight the madness you couldn’t cure.”
My hand stilled and I blinked, tears pressing behind my eyes. I pulled my hand away and wiped my finger on my jacket before grabbing thedagger and bringing it to his face. He didn’t open his eyes, relaxed under my touch.
It was my fault he fell to his curse. I was the one who could have stopped it if I hadn’t been so careless. So stubborn. If I’d trusted him.
Delicately, I grazed his skin with the blade, going with the grain. He hummed under his breath, his thumbs rubbing my thighs softly, like it was muscle memory.
“You took care of me too,” I whispered back. “You stayed even though I gave my soul away. Ripped it from you when you needed it most.”
He groaned when I pressed a little harder, reaching a difficult place. His hands tightened on my thighs.
“I didn’t, though,” he mused. “I ended up abandoning you, time and time again. And you forgave me for it.”
My heart constricted in my chest, but I kept moving the blade slowly. Carefully.
“Did you?” I asked in a breath.
“Did I what?”
“Forgive me.”
He opened his eyes then, his face so close I could see the red swirling in his irises. The madness a living thing inside his mind and soul. The dagger was at his throat and he sat still, unbothered.
“Most of the days. Sometimes the madness is too loud.”
His hands moved up my thighs to my hips and pulled me abruptly closer. I gasped as I landed fully on his lap, feeling his bulge under my heating core.
“Keep going please,” he asked softly, his hands moving to nestle on my waist.
No matter our history, Dimitri was one of the only two Immortals I trusted with my life. One of the two who never purposefully hurt me. One of the two whose touch I welcomed and craved. Whose touch didn’t make me recoil in fear but melt in want and need.
One of his hands pulled the ring hanging between my breasts and recognition flared in his eyes.
“You’re still wearing it.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. He turned it around his finger a couple of times, the metal warm from its constant contact with my skin, before he slid it back under my T-shirt where it belonged.
“We can’t keep doing this, you know?” I said, resuming my shaving. His breath hitched when the blade reached his throat.
“And what wouldthisbe?”
“This,” I said, going over the last patch of stubble. “You, reappearing out of nowhere after a century. Me, caving in. Us, having mindless angry sex for days, until it’s not enough to temper our mutual anger anymore and you leave again for another decade or more.”
He grabbed the blade from me and wiped it on his dark jeans, his eyes boring into mine.
