I turn to look at him, but his hand plants at the base of my spine and he’s pushing me into the kitchen island, sliding his palm up until it rests at the base of my neck. He presses down, hard, my body bent over as he comes to stand behind me, his fingers rising higher and knotting painfully in my hair.
“Didn’t you want me to hurt you, Eden?”
My palms are splayed on the cool marble counter, my elbows bent, and I try to push back, against his grip in my hair, but his other hand comes to my hip and squeezes, his body pressing into me, his dick hard against my ass.
I still, frozen as he grinds his hips against me.
“Answer my goddamn question.”
I stare at the bottles of alcohol littered over the countertop, and in my head, I see him with Luna. I find my voice again. “You lied to me, and all day you’ve been flirting withher.”
He leans over me, his weight causing the edge of the countertop to dig sharply into my hips. His breath is over my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he twists his fingers in my hair, jerking my neck back. “I’m not sure I see the problem here.”
“Fuck you.” The words leave my lips before I can think of anything else to say. I shove off from the counter again, or try to, but he doesn’t let me.
“I’d love to, but you’re so jumpy every time I reach for you, I’m not sure you’d live through mefuckingyou—”
“Shut the fuck up.” My voice breaks and I squeeze my eyes closed, humiliation burning through my face. I think of last night, and how stupid he probably thought it was. How he’s probably been fucking Luna even since we’ve met, and how I didn’t go far enough for him. “You’re such an asshole. Just shut.Up.”
It’s only a second later I realize my mistake.
He pulls me away from the counter, spins me around, and lifts me up so I’m sitting on the island before I can even blink. He’s between my thighs, his hand gripping my jaw just like he held Dominic, his other pinning my arm down. I can feel his chest heaving between us, and I mean to grab his arm and force his hand off of my throat, but instead, my palm finds his heart, and I feel the steady rhythm beneath my fingers, his cool skin hard under my touch.
“Are we still playing the same game?” he asks quietly, his lips moving over my mouth as his fingers tighten along my jaw. “Because if we are, tell me to shut up again. This time, I think I can give you exactly what it is you’ve been begging me for.”
I feel like I’m suspended in time. My breaths come in heavy pants, our lips touching. He digs his fingertips tighter, just on the underside of my bones. His eyes are blank and empty, and in this moment, it’s like I don’t know who he is anymore.
I like to think I’m the only person in the world he wouldn’t hurt. But now I’m not so sure. Play with fire long enough, and no matter how skilled you are, you’ll end up getting burned. But the problem is, I think I like how it feels.
And maybe I shouldn’t keep stoking it, but I can’t stop myself. My own emotions are too loud inside of me, and in some strange way, it feels good tofeel. “You have the guts to do it now?” I glance at his mouth, pressing my lips even closer to his, so he feels every word as I snarl, “Took you long enough.”
He’s still gripping my face but doesn’t react to my words. Not immediately. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Is he going to hit me? Is it what I want? I glance at his fingers, wrapped around my jawline, and try to imagine him intentionally hurting me with that hand. I see flecks of crimson on his knuckles, from Dom.
What if it wasmyblood? How would he feel then?
When he finally speaks, he drags my attention back up, to his face.
“You’re going to hate it,” he says, like he’s reading my mind. His words are a vicious whisper, as if he’s fighting with someone besides me.
Himself.
“The only thing I hate,” I say through clenched teeth, my body like a livewire beneath his hands, “is when you act like a person I don’t know.”
He stares at me, his eyes locked on mine, his fingers no less tight around my jaw and my wrist, but as he studies me, it’s like the touch becomes less angry and more desperate. Like he’s holding on.
Even outside, amidst the bullshit and lies and choking levels of testosterone between him and Dom, he had my back in his own twisted way. I know that.
“If you ever give her coke again, I promise I’ll kill you.”
“You’re upset about something.” I press harder against his heart. “I want you to be a big boy and tell me what it is.”
His twisted smile makes another appearance as he cocks his head, running his mouth over mine, his breath so sweet. “A big boy, huh?” He drags his lips up my jawline, over my ear. I feel the faintest pinprick of pain as he bites down on one of the piercings in my lobe, tugging softly.
The little hairs over my entire body stand on end as I suck in a breath, holding it.
“Is that what you want?” He licks his way up the line of my piercings, and I tense, the one in my cartilage still sore. But he doesn’t bite it, like he knows. Instead, his tongue flicks along the metal softly, making me squirm.
“Eli.” It’s half a whisper, half a moan.