Up in Smoke (King, #8)

by T.M. Frazier

“You’re right,” I whisper. “I am a monster.” Roughly, I grab her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I’m your monster.”

“Because you belong to me. Your fear, your anger, your fury, your fucking defiance. It all belongs to me. And nobody fucks with what’s mine but ME.”

“I don’t want gentle. I just want you,” she whispers. “All of you.” I growl, and then my lips are on her. She wants all of me, so I give myself to her. All six foot three of barren soul and misguided morals. All of my broken, black heart. All of the nothing I am is now hers. She’s my victim, and I’m her tormentor. She’s my prey, and I’m the predator. She is mine to do with as I please. And what I please right now is to make her come. Make her scream my name. Make her feel every inch of my desire for her and show her she’s always belonged to me. I want to see her tears of pleasure. I want to hear her screams of pain. I want her moaning my name. I want it all. I have it all, and right now there’s no going back. I’m going to take it. Take HER. Because she's mine.

“You wanted me to choose you, Hellion. Well, this is me...choosing you.” My. Fucking. Heart. Breaks.