Page 151 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

“Tell me you love me,” he says, something devious sparking behind his eyes.

I smile, lick my lips. “I love you, you fucking nut.”

Alex groans and captures my face between his palms, crushing his mouth to mine in a feral kiss, stealing my breath and senses.

I slide my hands up his chest, my fingers curling into the worn fabric of his shirt.

When he finally breaks away, he says, “We had a breakthrough with Subject Thirteen.” He delves into formula mixtures, rattling off metrics and readings, his excitement turning frenzied. “It’s only a matter of time—”

I press my finger over his mouth, silencing his manic spiel and talk of time. “Don’t tell me,” I say. “Show me.”

He smiles and nips my fingertip, then hauls me out of the chair and into his arms. He passes the doorway leading to his lab and instead enters the bedroom.

“You’re taking me the wrong way.”

He halts at the base of our bed and drops me on top of the feather comforter. Peering down at me with hooded eyes, Alex reaches behind his head and tugs his shirt off, revealing the defined, leanly carved muscles of his chest and abdomen.

“Correction,” he says as he moves in to cover my body with his. “I’m taking you. Period.”

As we conduct our own feverish chemistry experiment between the sheets, embracing all that is violent and needy and loving within us, we accept the choices that wove our fate together.

Alex chose to love his monster.

And I chose to stay in my Wonderland with my dark prince.

* * *

Thank you, lovely reader, for taking this dark journey with Blakely and Alex. You will never know how much it means to me that you read my words. You are the reason I breathe, to continue writing stories for you. If you enjoyed their story, please consider leaving a review, as it means everything to authors. Thank you.

I hope you continue down the rabbit hole with me a little further. Keep flipping the pages for a teaser fromLovely Bad Things.

If you want more inside sneak peeks from me, I have a Facebook readers group called The lil Monsters where I feed your dark, ravenous hearts. Also my VIP list, where you will always get updates on releases. Until then…

Read madly,

Trish

Special gift to Trisha Wolfe readers. Click the link to receive a FREE bonus story featuring your favorite dark romance couple, London and Grayson, from theDarkly, Madly Duet.

We weren’t born the day we took our first breath. We were born the moment we stole it.

~Grayson Peirce Sullivan,Born, Darkly

Kallum

Most obsessions start small, harmless. A tiny niggle in the back of your mind, an innocent fixation. The obsessive thought crawls under our skin and we begin to pick and pick until the desire overwhelms and we have no choice but to tear into it, claws raking and drawing blood.

The wound is a form of relief.

All great minds suffer this affliction. A torment that damns us to a monotonous existence.

But what is art and beauty if not pain? Anything which comes too easily is an insult to both the creator and the consumer.

With pain, we feel, we tear ourselves wide, and we allow the wound to heal over. We accept the scar. With obsession, we mutilate the skin until it’s destroyed, never allowing the damage to repair.

Blood never clots. We want it to flow, to keep feeding the passion, the desire.

Little Halen St. James didn’t start as a tiny niggle. From day one, she flayed my skin wide and buried herself deep.

---