Page 26 of Darkness Tempt Me
He lets out a deep sigh. “We just can’t, okay, Peyton? Just let it go,” he says as he steps away, putting more distance between us, and gives me his back.
Oh, hell no. I grasp his forearm and force him to turn around. He barely moves.Holy fuck, he’s strong.I step in front of him instead. “I don’t accept that.” I’d stomp my foot if I didn’t want to make a damn fool out of myself.
His lips twitch, but just as quickly, the almost-smile falls away.
“I said, I don’t accept that,” I shove at his chest. “I want a real answer.”
He shoves me hard against the wall and growls like a damn animal. I cry out, not from pain but from shock. His eyes dilate as he glares down at me. He’s about to reject me—again. The hard press of his body is crushing. Intoxicating. I’m trapped between the cold wall and the hard plains of his muscles. I can’t move, and I don’t want to. I practically melt, submitting to his overpowering dominance. My cheeks burn with some strange mix of arousal and humiliation.
“Because, Peyton. While you are the light, my soul is pure black. You have nofuckingidea of the darkness that grows inside of me,” he grits out. Suddenly, he slams his palm on the wall next to my head, causing me to jump. My body vibrates with fear and arousal. I place a trembling hand on his chest, where I can feel his heartbeat galloping out of control.
His face is so close to mine. And then I see it; there’s something there, maybe it’s that darkness he’s trying to describe. Didn’t his uncle hint at that darkness, too? I lean in closer. His breaths are labored, matching mine. I want to close the distance between us, but I’m scared.
Scared of him? Maybe? But the terrifying truth is that there’s a dark part of me I keep hidden as well. It swirls deep inside, wanting attention. It revels in that fear. Craves it. I crave it. Mavik might have something dark inside his soul, but even so, I know I can trust him. It’s why my body needs his. I can relinquish control and revel in my fear. All the while knowing that I’m truly safe with Mavik, no matter what.
Mavik wraps his long fingers over mine. At first, I think he’s holding my hand, keeping me there, or giving me comfort, but he pries my fingers off his arm. Disappointment fills me.
He pushes away from my body. “You deserve so much more, little light.”
My toes curl at the nickname.
With those parting words, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him, but not before I can see just how affected his body was to be pressed against mine.
I peel myself off the wall.Why the hell is he fighting this so hard?And what was with all that cryptic symbolism?
‘My soul is pure black.’
I scoff. Well, fine.
That’s just fine, Mavik Blackwood. Darkness has always tempted me.
Chapter seventeen
Mavik
Izoom in on the camera feed until I see an up-close shot of Peyton’s face from his bedroom. My three computer screens show distinct feeds from the concealed cameras in his apartment. I like to hide them in mundane objects he would never blink twice at. His bedroom is, of course, my main focus, which I monitor from four different angles, including an aerial view of his bed from the lamp in his ceiling fan.
Every camera feed flickers on and records either when it detects motion or when I program it to. The recordings are stored on my private network that only Hunter and I have access to—the same secure network that stores recordings of all our kills. Our network is undetectable because the signals are constantly routed through several countries, never settling on one server.
He’s so beautiful. Frustration is etched across his features, and I’m pretty sure I put it there thanks to the avoidance tactics I used during our workday. For the past two hours, Peyton hasbeen occupied with carving something that resembles a rabbit, ultimately forgetting to eat dinner. The damn boy needs a keeper.
The rest of our workday sped by as I avoided Peyton and prepared for my meeting with Daniel Sinclair tomorrow. There’s a good chance the old fart might not even show up, but I have to hope for the best. I never would have guessed that the man I wanted to kill most from my list would be the hardest to get to. Assuming the asshole shows up tomorrow, I’m going to have to present him with a business opportunity he could never pass on. Something to dangle in front of his face long enough to get multiple meetings and opportunities to take him down.
He’s the last fucking person on my kill list. The final person I need to complete my revenge.
Peyton tugs his shirt over his head and haphazardly tosses it in the hamper I know he keeps hidden in his closet. What would it be like to marry Peyton? To wake up every day with him trapped in my arms. Unable to escape. Naked, like a sacrifice waiting to be marked. I meant what I said; things are complicated. I’ve convinced myself over the years that Peyton was off limits, that he’d be the pretty little obsession I can satiate through hidden security cameras, social media accounts, and glass windows.
I can’t let Peyton distract me from my goal. Not when I’m so close. But the reality is, I need to marry someone if I want to keep my company. Who better than the only man I’ve ever wanted to possess?
Peyton walks over to the edge of his bed and turns on his lamp on the nightstand. He eyes his drawer for a moment, causing me to sit up straighter. “Looks like someone is reallyfrustratedtonight.” I smirk when Peyton pulls out his favorite blue dildo and bottle of lube.
My pants feel tight as my cock grows hard. Peyton continues stripping by kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks. Hispants are next until he’s in nothing but a pair of black silk panties. The coral ones are my favorite, but these are just as sexy.
He crawls onto the bed, not bothering with the light. Peyton just leaves it on, almost as if he wants me to see. I growl low in my throat when he closes his eyes, starts to tease his pretty pink nipples, and writhes on the bed. The moan that tumbles from his mouth is sexy as hell. Damn. Does he really moan that loud in bed?
“Fuck, that’s it, boy. Show me what you like,” I say to the image of Peyton on my screen. “So damn responsive.” He’s done nothing but play with his nipples, tugging on them and thrusting his silk-covered dick into the air. Finally, his fingers trail down his sides until they rest on the waistband. Slowly, he pulls the panties down his thighs until he’s able to slip one slim ankle out of the material. His left ankle is still wrapped in silk when he blindly reaches for his dildo and lube.
He’s messy when he pours some lube onto the silicone cock, letting the liquid drip onto his chest. Fuck. I want to mark all that porcelain skin. Replace that silky liquid with my cum and smear it onto his chest.
