Page 42 of Slay Me

The Ringmaster chuckles. “You seem so sure of yourself, Fury, and yet I cannot help but detect a bit of uncertainty when you speak of such things.”

“Perhaps I simply prefer men who do not cower behind gloves when they touch me.”

His smile fades. “I’ve told you what would happen should I touch you.”

“No. You didn’t. Condemning us both seems impossible to do with a single touch.”

“And yet it is inevitable.”

“So you say.” I take another bite of my lasagna then get to my feet. “Am I cleared to go? I’ve lost my appetite.”

The Ringmaster watches me closely, his gaze raking over my body in a way I know will haunt my dreams tonight. Finally, he nods. “Sleep well, fury. You will return to the ring tomorrow.”

Chapter14

Dante

I’m a fucking fool. A moron. A man who clearly does not possess a single ounce of any type of survival instinct. Because if I did, I would have snapped Liv’s neck the moment she realized what I am.

Aside from Bracken, Duncan, and Killian, she’s the only breathing person in this world who knows my true nature. The only one who carries the power to ruin me. And I’d just let her fucking walk out. Worse yet, I’ve spent far too much time watching her from across a table, yearning for something I can never have.

I slam my fist into the wall, and sheetrock dust falls to the floor. Breathing ragged, I rest my forearm against it and do my best to regain control. I’ve never lost it again this quickly after a treatment. Never struggled to keep the beast at bay within hours of having my back punctured. Yet, the moment she left, I treated myself. For two hours I remained in that wardrobe, and the beast is still rattling its chains.

Perhaps I should have done it while she was here. Forced her to stand and bear witness to the brutality I put my body through. After all, if I can hurt myself like that, imagine what I can do to her—but even as I think it, those thoughts get shoved back down.

Even the monster within wants her to survive.

And with that, I march toward my door and all but rip it off the hinges. Everyone should be down at the carnival, entertaining the patrons for at least another hour, but Liv is in her room. Alone.

Before I can fully process what I’m doing, my gloved knuckles are rapping against her door.

“Who is it?” Liv calls out, her sweet, delicate voice like music to my fucking ears.

“Open up.”

I hear the chain lock slide out of place, and she’s pulling the door open. My mouth goes dry as I take in the sight of her in nothing but a towel. Hair up in a bun, her shoulders are completely bare. Milky skin on full display.

Without fully considering the consequences, I wrap an arm around the back of her neck and bury my gloved hand in her hair. She gasps, pink lips parting as I shove her inside her apartment and slide the lock back into place.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she whispers.

Careful to keep my skin from brushing hers, I lean down and inhale her scent. Lemon and cinnamon—a unique combination that I only sense when she’s turned on. I bet I could slide right into her. Bet she’d be so fucking warm she’d thaw the ice around my heart. “Then who were you expecting, dressed like that?”

“No one,” she whispers.

I tighten my hold, keeping her face tilted up to see me. “No?”

“I just got out of the shower.”

Despite Liv being obedient, there’s a fire in her eyes that threatens to consume. A fire I desperately want to burn in. “Why did you need to shower?” I inhale again, the beast within slithering beneath my skin.

“It was a cold one,” she replies, meeting my gaze.

Releasing her, I take a step back. “Did it work?”

“No.” Her throat bobs as she swallows hard.

My cock hardens. “And how were you planning to rectify that?”

---