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“Would you like to know what runs in my family, little cat?” There’s a voice between my legs screaming, Boy, would I! but with a valiant effort, I ignore it.
I can tell he doesn’t want to ask, but curiosity gets the better of him. “And who are you?” “The only one of me who ever has been or ever will be. Same as you. In a word: irreplaceable.”
“‘I make the best use of what’s in my power, and take the rest as it happens.’”
Wait. I forgot. She’s not a woman. She’s a raging banshee who eats men’s sanity for supper.
She opens her eyes and gazes up at me. Cheeks flushed, lips wet, she looks incredible. Satan did a good job when he created her.
“What’s happening is that you’re breaking my bloody heart. Now fucking kiss me.”
The only thing in your control is the choice over whether or not you surrender to it.
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls.’”
His lips brush my ear. “Aye, baby. And all I am is yours now, so take care of this monster you’ve enslaved.”
“No, you don’t. You fucking love it. And you hate that you love it. Get used to being seen, and being with a man who won’t let you hide, and who won’t cower when you lash that barbed tongue of yours.”
“Please don’t freeze me out. Be angry all you want, but don’t shut down on me. I need you right now. I won’t be able to think straight if you don’t communicate with me.”
He glances over. “Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.” “I’m thinking we’re a couple of lunatics.” That makes him chuckle. “Aye. But my crazy matches your crazy. That’s why it works.”
“No damn way, Sloane. I don’t care whose dick you’re sucking, you’ll always be my best friend.”
His voice rough with emotion, he says, “You own me, Sloane. Every corner of my worthless black soul. Every piece of my corrupt black heart. You own it all, and you always will. I’m your slave, not the other way around. Never forget it.”
