Page 53 of The Hellkeeper

Her lips part. Eyes wide.

“I’m not taking your virginity in some dirty storage room.”

Her face flushes crimson. She stammers, “What makes you think I still want you to take it after everything that happened? After Linda?”

She wants to pretend she doesn’t want this? That she isn’t mine? My palm cracks against her thigh.

She screeches, jerking against the hood. “What are you doing?”

Another slap. Harder. “What. Did. I. Tell. You?” I hiss. “Didn’t I tell you the mere thought of another woman touching me fills me with pure rage?”

She turns her head, icing me out.

Wrong move.

I spread her thighs apart, stepping between them, pressing her down onto the hood.

“Whatever her name was didn’t touch me.”

Her eyes flicker with something like relief.

“She tried,” I continue, pressing kisses along the column of her neck. “But I didn’t let her.”

“Why?”

“Because I belong to you. Body. Heart. Soul.”

A shaky exhale escapes her lips. But it’s not enough. That relief I should feel, it isn’t there. Jealousy still gnaws at me.

“Are you being this difficult because of Theo?” I murmur. “Hmm? You saw him and now you want a taste of something normal? Something sweet?” I drag my lips along her jaw, voice dipping into a sneer. “A man who teaches you how to defend yourself instead of dismantling anyone who hurts you? If that’s what you want, too bad. I’m the only man for you. You’ll never get fucking normal. Only me.”

“I don’t want Theo,” she huffs, but she’s softening.

“I can’t stand it, Amelia,” I growl. “You leaving me. Hiding from me. Thinking I wouldn’t find you. That I’d ever let you go. And for that, you’re due for a punishment.”

“Punishment?”

“Don’t worry, little flower. I’ll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

I kiss her in a way that leaves me starving. Not for air. Not for reason. For her. Always her. I tear myself away before I forget we’re in public and strip her down right here on the hood, let the whole city watch me remind her who she belongs to.

No. That won’t do. No one sees her like that but me.

I open the door and usher her inside. The ride is thick with something potent. Electric. My hands grip the wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles white as I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s clutching a shredded tissue, tearing it to pieces.

Nervous.

She shouldn’t be. There’s no need.

She is my priority. My reason. My fucking religion.

The only thing she should feel—

Is worshipped.

The moment we pull up to my building, her mouth parts in awe, head tilting back as she takes in the height of it.

“You like it?” I ask.

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