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“If you looked a little less like an anal-retentive asshole, you might get laid every once in a while.”
“You want to know why I don’t touch you?” I shook my head. “Because if I did, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I’d snuffed out that pretty fire in your eyes.” His gaze flashed. “Don’t shut yourself in a room with me again, Gianna.”
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” His voice was black velvet set out to freeze.
“I’m not one of your admirers. I’m not going to hold my dick and pine over you, just waiting for the day you might choose me.
If I fuck you, Gianna, nobody else ever will.”
“I’ve dreamed of that sound,” he rasped, nipping at my earlobe. Warmth filled me like sunlight. I shouldn’t take what he said to heart—he was often rude as hell—but, God, when he was sweet, it made me feel on top of the world.
“Ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl.”
Keep her. Make her want you. Make her need you.
“Tell me who hurt you, Gianna.”
“Kak moya.”
“I’ve thought about you so much you’re mine now.” It was a growl that lowered into a threat. “You’re lucky you didn’t let him touch you, Gianna, because I really don’t like it when people touch my things.”
What was worse was now, I had the memory of her looking up at me from her knees. That image had burned itself so deep beneath my skin I’d never get it out.
every time I thought about leaving, my collar felt too tight, the air too thick to breathe. I didn’t know if I could physically do it.
I’d never let her leave. I didn’t care if I had to handcuff the little fugitive to my headboard.
You’re mine. And I go where you go.
“Voy kak volk, malyshka.” Howl like a wolf.
“Voy kak volk,” she whispered. She’d said it right. And I suddenly knew I was going to keep her.
“Every time you touch something that belongs to me, I’ll fuck up something of yours.”
How could I say every strand was mine any clearer than washing it every goddamn night?
Because it felt like if I didn’t have my possession of her in writing, she’d slip from my fingers again.
I was all in, had known this obsession would only escalate once I’d had her body, her attention, and her smiles all to myself. I’d warned her years ago when she’d pressed her lips to mine.
When you’re obsessed with something for so long and finally obtain it? It feels like coming home to God. And nobody gives up their fucking spot in Heaven.
“There are plenty of women who could make you happier, Christian.” “You’re the only one I want.”
“You win, malyshka.”
“Would you visit my grave if I died?” His eyes grew dark. “I’d die before you were ever in a grave, malyshka.” I loved his possessive side. And I loved his dark side, too.
also highly suspect you’re affected by an antisocial personality disorder. Including but not limited to manipulation, exploitation, and, possibly, a lack of empathy for others.” I’d always found mental disorders and their diagnoses boring, but I knew enough to know antisocial personality disorder was just another term for sociopathy.
Love is an obsession. Some would even say . . . the maddest obsession.”
“Because every part of you is mine.”
“How about because I love you, Gianna? Because I think I have since the moment I saw you? Because if you weren’t in this world anymore, I would find a way to take myself out of it?”
