Still, I can’t have her tonight.
I loosen my hold on her wrist and let my palm slide up her arm and over her shoulder before finally resting it at the small of her back. Demi doesn’t step out of my hold.
Pulling my face from her neck, I study her. Her eyes are pressed closed.
The bond is pulsing with desire, rage, sorrow, and confusion. I use my free hand to rub my thumb over her cheek then gently kiss her lips.
She sucks in a hard breath, snapping her eyes open and staring into mine. They’re redder than before, but I think that’s because of how many emotions are assaulting her at once.
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask, resting my hand at the back of her neck, effectively pinning her to me.
“Yes,” she whispers, placing her palms on my chest and pushing.
With much reluctance, I release her and flash out of her apartment. Before her door closes, I hear her whisper, “asshole.” Then the distinct thudding of a knife embedding into wood sounds.
Despite the name and knife, I smirk and feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I haven’t lost her yet.