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“You’ll get what’s coming to you, D’yavol. And when you do, I’ll smile when they cover you with dirt.” Fuck. That was kind of hot.
“Fuck is versatile.” “Not that versatile.” The full weight of his gaze could rival a shock wave. “When I fuck you, kotyonok, I promise, you’ll use ‘fuck’ in more ways than I ever fucking have.”
If I could long for the devil, it meant I had some darkness in me too.
“Tell me what you really want from me, kotyonok. You can have it. Anything besides letting you go.”
He watched me for a second. “Jesus Christ.” With a frustrated noise like he was in pain, he released my hair. “I’ve Stockholm syndromed you.”
But no, the comeuppance karma had dealt me was feelings. What a cunt.
She gave me her forgiveness. I had nothing to give her but vengeance.
The knowledge was difficult to admit to myself, but I liked this girl an indecent amount. I liked her in my home—even with all the mud she dragged in. I liked her full attention and smart mouth. But what I really liked was her heart—the pliable organ in her chest I could mold to fit my hand like Play-Doh.
“Because you’re so sweet you fucking glow.” His eyes darkened. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you.”
“Then let me make it clear for you,” he said, the shadows in his eyes flashing. “You would survive without me. You would move on.” His tone roughened. “I can’t imagine a world where you and all your fucking yellow doesn’t exist. So if you die, you’ll take me with you. Your sacrifice would mean nothing, kotyonok. NOTHING.”
