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“The monster in you recognizes the monster in me,” he whispered. “And it wants to play.”
“You’re alive because you’re mine. Your blood. Your life. Your death. Mine.”
“I am yours. To fuck. To torture. To kill. I am yours.” For some reason, the truth of those words were the saddest thing Stavros ever experienced.
“Do you want to be here?” Stavros asked against his lips. “I could chase you, hunt you down, but I don’t do that ‘for sport’ shit.” He touched Daniel’s chin. “I’m not the catch and release type.”
“He is my want, and my need, and my danger.”
“This tin man has a heart, diablo. And it is yours.” He caught Stavros’ hand and brought it up to his chest. Over his heart. “It beats for you.”
“Expect me to love you like you love me.” He shifted closer, settling between Daniel’s legs. “Expect me to respect you enough to do right by you,” he said hoarsely. “For once, fucking expect me to take care of your heart.”
“I expect you to love me like I love you,” he whispered into that kiss. “I expect you to do right by me, because I will do right by you.” Stavros shuddered. His grip on Daniel faltered. “I expect you to take care of my heart, diablo, because I will take care of yours.”
