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I could do the noble thing and draw the line in the sand. I could take the scared little bird under my wing and protect her. I could show my new wounded animal some mercy. But mercy wasn’t something I was capable of.
hated her face and the stupid freckles lining the bridge of her nose. I hated her smile and her crooked teeth. I hated the carefree way she giggled and how the wind blew her long red hair as she swung on the swing. I hated the way she looked at me when our gazes collided—like she could see all the demons taking up residence in my black soul. I hated her for prying and asking shit she had no business asking. I hated her for breathing the same air as me. I hated her for existing.
His touch should feel like razor blades beneath my skin. Yet it feels like tiny little sparks lighting every nerve ending of mine on fire.
He’s like a venomous snake digging its fangs into their victim…injecting me with his poison.
I wanted a battle…but he gave me a war.
Love is bullshit. Love is nothing but lies and hurt concealed in the notion of a fairytale we’re all forced to believe is vital to our wellbeing. Love always leads to pain.
His mouth is savage and hungry. A reward and a punishment.
His touch is gentle…teasing. Torture.
“Every action has a consequence,”
Who knew monsters could be so beautiful? Then again…that’s exactly what lures you in. Beauty is an aphrodisiac that attracts everyone.
An electrifying tremble breaks free and I suck in a sharp breath when he cups me between my legs. I hate how his touch feels like both damnation and deliverance. Right and wrong. Bad meets evil.
There’s so much stark emotion contained when he says my name—hate, love, want, desire, obsession—all of it tangled into one. Just like us.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so messed up. I’m sorry you saw me. I’m sorry I had to make you hate me…
