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On a scale of straighter-than-straight Jer to fluid-as-lube Kill to confused-as-shit Gareth, I wonder where Brandon King falls. Not that I’m tempted to find out. That would be crazy. * * * Just kidding. I am crazy.
“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he mutters, his throat working beneath my fingers. “Your nightmare.” “I hate you.” “I don’t.” “You’re fucking crazy.” “About you,” I whisper against his lips and claim them with a guttural moan.
This is my kind of nightmare.
This was supposed to be a little game, but I don’t think I’m playing anymore. The worst part is that I feel like I’m already losing.
“Want to blame me again?” I murmur against his skin. A puff of air leaves his mouth and he nods once. “Then blame me all you want, baby.” I slam my lips to his, taking what’s mine. Because he is fucking mine.
“Don’t run away from me again. If you do, I’ll flip the world upside down to find you. You’re mine now, baby.”
“I’m going to fucking ruin you as badly as you’ve ruined me, my lotus flower. I’ll get so far beneath your skin, you’ll never fucking get rid of me.”
“Hey, Nikolai.” “Yeah?” “If you could be anywhere in the world, where would you go?” “Inside you, baby.”
“Absolutely, and, baby?” He kisses the top of my head and his next words nearly give me a heart attack. “Even if you hate yourself, I’ll love you for the both of us.”
“You’re the most beautiful thing on earth,” he whispers against my neck, peppering kisses there as he meets my gaze in the mirror. “I’m lucky you allowed me in your life.” Kiss. “I’m lucky you love me.” Kiss. “I’m lucky you’re letting me fight your demons with you.”
Swoon
