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His hand fists at his side. “I love fucking you, Halen. I’ll fuck you ten different dirty, demeaning ways right now that will make you scream my name and plead to let you come. But sex doesn’t start with the act itself.” He takes another deliberate step toward me. “It’s heated glances and charged near touches. It’s cruel words and fiery tempers. It’s instant chemical attraction across a quad when you make that first real connection, when you feel the center of gravity shift…and you know nothing will ever be the same again.”
“The villain becomes a hero,” I say, my voice weak. His arresting eyes find mine and he looks into me, his smoldering, breathtaking smile an unbearable ache clutching my heart. “Sweetness, I’m your goddamn devil.”
“We are the high and low notes,” I whisper across her collar, fusing myself with her and invoking the dark spark of creation between us that can only be reached through violence. And then violence itself becomes beautiful. It’s almost too lovely, like staring into the hottest flame of an ember, almost unbearably ineffable. If she kills me in return, I hope she creates something just as lovely.
I hold her there, suspended between sleep and wake, heaven and hell, marveling at the tears streaking her face. So beautiful and serene, her features cast in unearthly perfection. I kiss her lips delicately before I lick the salty path of tears, tasting them on her skin and lapping at her like the fiend I am. I murmur a Latin chant, my vow to always find her in the darkness.
“Oh, god… Kallum—” she cries out as her inner walls clench around me, so goddamn tight, her orgasm spiraling her over the edge. “That’s right, sweetness.” I groan and drive inside her in brutal demand, my fingers digging into her thighs to bring her down against me harder. “Commune with me, your fucking god.” We are divinity.
