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My distance isn’t because I don’t want her. It’s because I want her too much, and living in this house with her is hell.
“I live in darkness,” I blurt out, not able to catch my thoughts quick enough before they slip from my mouth. “Kindness doesn’t live there. It’s a box with no light. I know nothing of the world, and it doesn’t know me. I don’t know how to—”
“Wait, wait. I’m not laughing at you,” she breathes. “I just—I think I broke you.”
I’m trying, to no avail, to keep her at a distance so I don’t have to admit that she scares me. A man who fears nothing is afraid of all she is. All she makes me want. All she makes me feel.
“Your gift,” I state, that fluttering from earlier coming back, and I pause before I continue. “You’re sunlight.”
“Why are you sleeping out here?” Still half-asleep and unguarded, she answers me. “You have nightmares,” she mutters groggily, taking her sweet time to sit up. “I sleep out here when they start, just in case you need anything when you wake up.”
“Tell me why you won’t let me in.”
“Why!” she exclaims. “What are you protecting me from, Thatcher? Just tell me!”
“Me!” I
“Me, you stubborn fucking girl. I’m protecting you from me.”
“I crave you,” I exhale, the admission slicing my throat on its way out. “My body wants you every second of the day and twice as much at night. I want you in the most unhinged ways, ways that would scare you.”
“I was touch-starved, and now you’ve fed me.” I tighten my grip on her hair, our noses rubbing against one another. “Of course I’m fucking hungry for you.”
“Then take me. Have me, Thatcher. Let me give myself to you.”
“I can’t,” I groan. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why?”
“I’m incapable of giving you what you want.” My throat is raw. “A relationship? A man who loves you? I can never be that. You will always require more from me, and there is nothing more I can give. I’m uncaring and cold. Love doesn’t live in my world. I’m a killer, darling. That’s all I will ever be.”
“You don’t need to protect me, not even from you.” She holds me tighter, as if her touch will make the words soak into my skin. “I’ll take what you can give me, don’t you see that? I would rather have you like this than live without you. There is no one else out there for me. I was made for you.”
“Please, Thatcher,” she whispers, her lips glistening with tears. “Your sharp edges don’t hurt me.”
“Do you know what thorns wish they could say to roses, darling phantom?”
“That they deserve more,” I begin. “You deserve more than I can ever give you. I’m incapable of holding your heart, of taking care of it. Stop giving it to me. Stop before I kill it for good.”
“I don’t want to leave you empty, Scarlett. Don’t make me leave you empty.”
“I know you have genetics with Hayes shortly, so—” My brows furrow together, alarmed and unable to keep my thoughts to myself. “How do you know that?” It’s the new semester. My course load differs completely from what it was in the fall. Unless he’d specifically looked at it, he wouldn’t know what I was taking. He chuckles, placing his hands against the edge of the desk. “Lyra, how many
“Why do I get the feeling we would have been fast friends in college?”
“Lyra,” he murmurs. “We would’ve been much more than just that.”
“What—”
“You would have been my everything. I would have lived and died for you.”
“Conner, stop.” The shake in my voice is evidence enough that I’m afraid. “Seriously.”
“I could be so good for you, Lyra.” Then his mouth takes mine. Forcefully, without my consent or desire.
My breath catches in my throat. And a voice, grim as liquid night, pervades the air. “The worst mistake of your fucking life.”
“Do you remember what I told you would happen if he came near you again, pet?” His
“Please,” I beg, my eyes burning. “I’m not worth this.”
“Oh, darling,” he purrs, swallowing my tears, “you’re worth it. Bloodshed and all.”
“This is ridiculous,” he sneers, pushing against the restraint, “We were both caught up in a moment. Your jealousy is making you overreact!”
“Jealousy would require me to envy something you have, Conner.” I toss my jacket on the couch nearby, circling in front of him. “You’re here because you didn’t keep your hands to yourself. You touched something that belongs to me.”
I don’t need music to relive this moment, not the way I had with the others. No, I have something far better. A witness. One who would watch my every move, write it down in her brilliant mind, and keep it there as a permanent memory. And later, when I force my cock inside of her, I’m going to make her tell me everything she saw. Every. Single. Detail. Until she’s coming, shouting my name to the memory of his suffering. It’ll be her punishment for putting herself in this position, for being too trusting, being naive around men who have corrupt intentions.
“Just stay there. I’ll call you soon. And Thatcher?” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Was he worth it?”
“No.” I press my fingers on the bridge of my nose as my eyes close. “But she was.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” The floorboards creak beneath Lyra’s feet. “Why did you?”
“Asking the question you already know the answer to?”
“I want to hear you say it.” The smell of her brushes against my nose, and the softness of her hands brings heat to my skin as they rest against my abdomen. “I want you to hear it for yourself.”
“No one is allowed to touch you,” I say honestly.
“Except you?” A smirk pulls across my lips. “Except me.”
“Do you know what I’m about to do, pet?” I ask, shoving my thumb through the seam of her lips. She sucks on it, and the sensation shoots straight to my cock. “I’m going to fuck the taste of him out of this needy mouth.”
Red dots coat her tongue, spilling over her lips and dripping down the curve of her chin. I’m painfully hard, watching her drink it down. The way she swallows, I’m so very jealous that I can’t watch my blood pour down her throat, can’t see the way it paints the inside of her with me.
“Good girl,” I praise, tilting my head a bit. “So pretty covered in my blood. Absolutely fucking divine. I’m going to use you up, feel your throat struggle to fit my cock, and watch as you choke on my come. And you’re going to let me, yeah?”
“Yeah, you are,” I confirm, staring at the reddish-pink lines on my dick. “Because you’re desperate for my come, aren’t you, pet? I bet if I lift that skirt, I’ll find you soaked for me. That pitiful, aching pussy is jealous of your mouth, isn’t it?”
“Yes,”
“Open your throat for me. Let me ruin you.”
“That’s it. Such a good little pet,” I grunt as the heaviness in my balls aches. “I’m going to fill your throat with my come, and you’re not going to spill a single drop.”
My lack of a soul wasn’t because of the evil that had infested my mother’s womb or my father’s corrupt DNA. No, I didn’t have one because it belonged to her.
