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But the single most interesting thing about my psychologist is this: I make her curious.
If I’m obsessed, she’s infatuated—an explosive combination.
“I’m inside you now, under your skin,” he says, fingers pushing deeper. “I want to break you, so I can piece you back together.”
He brushes my hair from my eyes, the action so tender it steals my breath. “You’re my match.”
He is sick—and yet, he’s all I can feel…all I want to feel.
Grayson strokes my neck, tenderly inspecting the mark he’s left behind. “I see you, London,” he whispers. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His lips brush mine in a slow, claiming kiss—a stark contrast to the intensity we just experienced.
And no matter how strong the connection between us, I refuse to fall for Grayson—for a killer.
We’re a perfect match.
Once you’ve had a hit of that perfection—that utterly seductive rush of gratification—it becomes impossible to live without. She’s a necessity, like air for my lungs, feeding my addiction. And just as I can’t silence my compulsions, her absence stirs a restless hunger, the thought of not having her unbearable, a madness that twists and claws inside my mind.
My own design of love may be a twisted creature, but that creature is hungry and demands to be fed.
Loving him will send me right over sanity’s edge.
“God, you’re a monster.” “I’m your monster.”
“You’re mine, London. We can dance this violent dance until we bleed each other dry, or we can surrender. Your choice, but I will have you.”
“That monster born of sin and death died in a car wreck,” I tell him. “She’s gone.” A menacing smile tips his mouth. “Then it’s my mission to resurrect her.”
“But then there was you.” “I fail to see how I have anything to do with it.” His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip as he stares up at me from the cot. “You can’t fear losing what you never had. You changed that. I can’t simply cease to exist now, not when I want you this badly. When I know what we could have together.”
“Jesus, Grayson, this is madness.” I palm her face, forcing her gaze up to mine. “This is beyond madness—this is what obsession does to a man.” I swallow hard, my throat raw. “From my first taste of you, I knew I’d never get you out of my system…knew I’d risk insanity to have you.”
“You and I are connected, London. We belong together,” I say, obstinate. “I’m already a dead man. I’d rather die chasing something impossible with you than rot behind bars.”
“You think I’ve escaped my prison.” His gaze heats. “Whoever said love sets you free clearly never fell for their therapist.” He licks his lips slowly, his intense eyes dropping to my mouth. “I want you more than freedom, London.”
“I love everything about you,” he whispers, a coarse friction over my skin, “even your sickness, all the bad things you’ve done. You caught me in your web, and I want you to bleed me dry, London. That’s how twisted you’ve got me.”
“If I knew everything, we wouldn’t be here,” he says. “And if we both knew all the answers, then we’d be far past this courting bullshit.” “Courting,” I mock, a laugh slipping free. “I suppose this would be considered dating to a sadistic psychopath. Just a romantic dinner after a little strangulation and breath play.”
“Is this what love feels like?” she asks. I crave her pain like my lungs crave air. “This is what our love feels like.” “Make me your sinner, Grayson,” she breathes. “I don’t want redemption. I want us.”
