Page 151 of The Contract

A pathetic attempt to purge Riley, and all this goddamned blood, from my head for good.

Ten.

Her scent—feminine, addictive, a ghost I can’t exorcise.

Nine.

That smart fucking mouth, defiant even when she trembled beneath me.

Eight.

Those eyes—bright, fierce sunlight daring to wage war against my darkness.

Seven.

Seven rogue freckles scattered across her torso—tiny constellations I’ve mapped out more times than I’ll ever admit, guiding me straight to hell.

Six.

That fucking necklace, biting into her throat like barbed wire pulled tight.

As if anyone could cage my girl.

My. Girl.

Five.

Her thighs straddling my lap—the exact second I spiraled into madness. I can still feel her heat branding my skin, searing straight to the bone.

Even now.

Especially now.

Four.

The desperate little sound she made when my fingers curled around her throat—a breathless, broken plea designed to wreck me.

She has no fucking idea what I’m capable of.

No clue how close she came to unleashing the real beast.

Three.

That goddamn dress.

Of course I shredded it. What did she expect?

Take one dress.

Add knife.

Hand to Dante.

It’s simple fucking math.

Two.

Her mouth—those perfect, trembling lips I’ve imagined wrapped around my cock from the first night at Enzo’s wedding.

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