Lies of My Monster (Monster Trilogy, #2)

by Rina Kent

But being celibate after being in Sasha’s pussy exactly two hundred twenty-seven times has been pure fucking torture. What? I didn’t mean to count, but I might have grown obsessed with it and done it unconsciously. My fingers linger on the slits of red on her pale skin. Is it fucked up that I want to put more marks on her so the world can see who she fucking belongs to? Probably. That doesn’t mean the thought disappears, though. Her head lolls to the side and falls on my chest. Fucking fuck. For a second, I forget that I’m mad at this woman. No, mad is an understatement. I’m livid and so close to losing my fucking mind whenever I think she has someone else. Those thoughts make me consider setting the whole of Russia on fire just to weed him out. Such crazy, completely impossible thoughts haven’t left me alone since I heard her telling him on the phone that she loved him and that she’d go back to him. As if I would ever let that happen. Add the sense of betrayal and being shot, and I’m spiraling down a path even I don’t like. Not one bit. I stroke my finger marks on her neck, and she leans her cheek on my palm, snuggling close as if I’m her safe haven. More like, I’m her custom-made hell. As I wipe the droplets of sweat off her face, the name of the abyss I’ve fallen into punches me in the fucking gut. Obsession. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it? This is what it feels like to have the need to own someone when I’ve never thought about that concept before. This is also why I...