Page 55 of Nemesync
I needed her to give in, let herself go under my control.
“I loathe every fucking breath you take. I want to steal them so you can beg me to give them back to you, Zanae.”
Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated slowly growing bigger, fire and abyss melting together.
She didn’t know that those same eyes haunted me like an endless curse, nor that I needed to break her, just to feel the twisted satisfaction of possessing and owning what destroyed my sanity all these years.
She circled me, as if testing her self-control too. “You think you can control me, Elijah? Try to steal them, and I’ll drown you with me in death.”
Tempting.
I smiled at that audacity she had, savoring the blush in her chest, the anger and frustration in her gaze, the chaos behind that exquisite face. “Threatening me with death? Zanae, I’ll shove something deep inside that pretty throat of yours and show you how pleasurable gasping for air can be. That near-death experience will teach you to shut that mouth.”
She stopped in front of me, looking at me from her height. I’m way taller than her, but she has the confidence of a man the same stature as me, maybe even more confident.
“Not intimidating enough. Try again.”
“You’ll learn obedience,Milaya. Even if I have to force it.”
With a swift movement, she took my hand and guided it along her thigh, making me pull her knife from its sheath and placing it against my palm. She smiled darkly, no ounce of doubt in those eyes. “I’ll never, ever, be afraid of you.”
We stood there, breathing heavily, the knife poised between us.
My mind was at war with my body for her.
The edge of control cuts both ways when it comes to us.
My hand rested on the knife, the blade a mere breath away from her throat. I felt her pulse throbbing in her neck. She was scared but she wanted to see how far I could go.
Her neck looked delicious.
Pale, soft, silky even, screaming at me to brand it as my own canva. “Second time tonight that you put a knife between us, are you trying to tell me something, Zanae?”
She met my gaze, her eyes burning, and with a bored sigh she said, “In your dreams, Elijah. I think you enjoy having me around but hate it at the same time. If you have to act all possessive over me, at least explain it to me.”
My lips curved into a half-smile, a mixture of amusement and something more sinister surged within me, “You have a way of making everything so much more painful in my life.”
She tilted her head, a smirk playing on those rosy lips, “Is that a compliment or a warning?”
My thumb traced the line of the knife’s edge, imagining the blood she’s going to bleed. Am I going to see red? Or still see brown everywhere because of her eyes.
“Take it however you like, Zanae. I could open your throat, let you die and cover my ground with that pretty shade of red that beats inside your heart in a few seconds.”
“Are you showing off one of your talents?”
I leaned in closer, taking a lock of her hair between my fingers, appreciating way too much the feel of the soft darkness enveloping my skin. “I have many of them if I want to show off.”
She was clearly testing me, I saw it in her eyes, she was trying to win me, to be right about her stupid diagnostic as if I was a case to study.
She added with the softest voice ever, “You’re all talk, Elijah.”
“You also have a way of turning any conversation into a temptation to make me want to fuck the hell out of your pretty head, Zanae. It’s almost impressive.”
She chuckled, trying to look all unfazed, but that damn redness on her cheeks, accentuating her freckles was telling me otherwise, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
I leaned in, my lips dangerously close to her ear, her scent enticing me, “I’m curious, then. Show me.”
The knife remained between us, the blade reflecting light in her amber eyes. Fucking ablaze.
