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“What sounds better? ‘I am not weak?’ or ‘I am not fucking weak, you swine?‘”
Dae is at my ear. “Don’t you dare fucking die.”
The portrait I kissed once when no one was looking. A devilish curl pulls his lips even higher as he folds his muscled arms and leans against the black pillar separating my sleepwear from my evening gowns. “Definitely my new favorite memory.”
My nails bite into the leather harness. “Fine. Then, I’ll give you a nickname you hate.” His grin gets bigger when he looks over to me. “Like shadow daddy?” He winks. “I would absolutely hate that one.”
“I do. I want everything that has to do with you. I want your death glare pointed at me. I want that damn lip to myself. I want your black eyes and menacing hands all over me. Your smile. Your anger. Your tears. All of it.”
