Page 109 of My Dark Divine
He exhales a ragged breath, growing more agitated. It’s never been easy between us, and the words get stuck in my throat after so long in silence. I feel lost, unsure how to escape or learn to fully trust him.
“Who’s going to care about you if I don’t?” he asks, his tone sinking lower.
“I have my father.”
“Your father, you say?” Skepticism colors his reply, every word tinged with biting humor. “The one who cares so much about you that he sold you off to me?”
The room falls silent, and I hold my breath, staring down at the floor. A subtle quake moves through my frame as I reach my breaking point. Anger sparks, pushing back the fear and paranoia twisting inside me. Raising my hand, I slap him acrossthe face. Hard. The loud smack reverberates through the room, sending a shockwave through my palm and igniting my skin.
For a moment, he doesn’t move, his face frozen to the side. A trickle of fear runs through me as the reality of what I’ve done sinks in. But he doesn’t react the way I want—no anger, no retaliation, nothing at all.
I do it again, putting more force into the slap than the first time. He jerks back, but this time, he brings his hand to his lip, catching the trail of blood trickling from his nose.
“How dare you?” I demand, my voice wavering more than I’d like. No retort could match the pain his words just caused. “Saying things like this?—”
His wicked laugh cuts me off. “Things like this? You mean, the truth?” He darts his tongue out to lick the blood, his sapphires gleaming with mischief as he savors my startled reaction. “You keep living in denial, Netia, thinking you don’t need me.”
“What makes you think I need you, West?” I retort. “Whatever feelings you stirred up are gone now. Any good will vanish the moment you revert to your true self.”
“You can keep lying to yourself,” he says, stepping closer, and I try to move back, but my legs give out as I hit the edge of the bed. His arm encircles my waist, catching me just in time. “You can run back to him, but you know who your real daddy is.”
Warmth spreads through my lower stomach as I summon every last bit of strength to land a punch on his jaw. Before I can react, he lifts me effortlessly with one hand, causing me to gasp as he climbs onto the bed, treating my punch as if it were nothing. I fight against him, my emotions a chaotic blend of fear, anger, and strange longing.
He pays no mind to my struggle as he positions me on top of him, his hands gripping my hips. “Come on, baby girl,” he says, a devilish smirk spreading across his face. “Punch me. Slap me.Fucking spit on me if it makes you feel better. Show me your true self.”
His words ignite something within me, and my hands move before I can think. I slap him again and again, each strike harder than the last, savoring how his soft skin yields under my touch. Blood trickles from his nose, blending with the flow from his split lip. With every strike, the emotions I once felt fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of control. I’ve never had this much power over anyone, and now he’s giving it to me, surrendering himself completely.
I love it more than I should.
I could do anything to him. I could kill him, and I’m certain he would let me. He’d trust me to choke the life out of him, his vision fading to black, and still, he would let me have my way.
Because he trusts me. I’m the one who has seen him completely unraveled, exposed, and vulnerable. I’ve glimpsed something in him that nobody else ever has—something beyond the toxic, poisonous anger we share.
And he will give me the power to take it all from him because neither of us has anything to lose.
“I want to fucking kill you, West.” Panting, I gaze down at his bloodied face, the sight of crimson splattering across his skin awakening a strange, unfamiliar desire within me. It feels like I want to do more. “I want to kill you for giving me something I should never have.”
He draws me close, like a spider weaving its web around me. The ache in my body is a strange comfort, a reminder of the power I’ve unleashed, the raw energy of our fight, and everything I’m capable of. “Take the pieces of me I shared with you, baby, and set them ablaze. Break me fucking down, strip me bare, and devour what’s left. Take everything I am and give me all you’ve got.”
He presses his forehead against mine, and a sob catches in my throat. The scent of blood mingles with his perfume, creating a toxic yet strangely enticing blend that fills my senses. “It willneverbe enough.”
“Show me how much you can take away,” he whispers, his words skating across my lips, leaving a warm tingle in their wake. “Use me. Use me to destroy everything you want to forget.”
I don’t need to be told twice. Pressing my lips to his, I taste the blood as if it’s the most exquisite nectar. My tongue laps up every drop, tracing a path from his lips to his cheeks and nose, cleaning away the traces of my violence.
He groans, his grip tightening, urging me to move. The friction of our clothes sparks a burning sensation between my legs, dulling everything else around me. When I return my mouth to his, the collision of our worlds sends my senses spiraling and wipes away all the restraint I had just moments before.
I’m gone, and I don’t ever want to come back.
My nipples harden painfully against the fabric of my blouse as I run my hands over his chest, pushing his blazer aside before focusing on his shirt. I feel the primal urge rising inside me, stealing my breath and driving me to rip the fabric off with my teeth.
He sits up, his hands leaving my hips to help me undress him. He never breaks the kiss, his mouth chasing mine, the sensations surging through us like a powerful force. This moment, this kiss, consumes us—as if our very existence hangs in the balance.
I’m unaware of how every piece of clothing slips away from our bodies. My head feels heavy as if I’ve injected the most mind-altering drug into my veins, its effects gradually spreading through my system and clouding my consciousness.
I throw my head back, and he seizes the opportunity, sinking his teeth into my neck. A cry of both agony and pleasure bursts free as I run my fingers through his hair, anchoring him in place. It turns into a moan when he licks the wound before moving lower, repeating the process that sends me spiraling into bliss. I can feel myself growing wetter, the warmth of my arousal spreading across his cock, which presses painfully into me.
I want to stretch this moment out for as long as possible. It’s only when I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of the nightstand that I remember how the control I crave is slipping through my fingers. I tighten my grip on his hair and, in one firm movement, pull him away from my neck. A hollow ache envelops the marks he left, and I bite my lower lip to stifle a pathetic sound that threatens to escape.
