Page 57 of Nemesync
“I hate you.”
“I can still be on my knees while you’re hating me. Doesn’t matter to me,” he whispered back brushing my cheek with his lips before backing off.
God I wanted him to stay there. What’s wrong with me?
Insanity.
“You’re seriously messed up. You need professional help Elijah.”
“With you, I feel like madness is needed.”
Sometimes your mind isn’t strong enough to control what your body craves the most. Maybe he’s right, maybe it’s just physical, no need to be ashamed of that.
I didn’t even understand what’s happening as my hands moved to his chest. He looked down at my fingers on his shirt, then at my eyes, and finallymy mouth.
17
ELIJAH
Sweet and depraved, and so much trouble behind those eyes. My favorite trouble.
Her fingers found their way on my chest, making me feel like I could breathe again at her touch.
10.
Amber again.
What the fuck was happening to me?
I grabbed the knife and put the handle between her legs, slowly pushing it to make her feel the madness I harbor for her.
“Let’s put this knife to use at least.”
She let out a little moan at the contact, such a sweet and greedy woman. Of course, it would sound that attractive.Fuck, I’m so turned on, I didn’t even touch her yet.
I closed the remaining distance between us. My lips hovered just inches from hers, enough for me to lose my mind over the breathing sounds she was making.
“You smell dangerous,” she uttered between heavy breaths.
“What do I smell like,Milaya?”
“Like mindless sex.”
If I taste her, I’ll never stop myself from consuming her entirely. Just one taste, and it’ll be the end of the world as she knew it before me.
She should be scared, but no—she wanted me to take that step and never look back.
Zanae Dellé is a fucking drug in my system, unhealthy for my existence, but fuck, I can’t escape her gaze and I don’t want to.
I don’t want to escapeher.
Zanae
Our eyes begged each other to abandon this twisted game and succumb to temptation. Pleading to stop this fire that courses through our entire beings whenever we breathe the same air. Demanding to touch each other as if our own lives hinged on it.
Our souls implored us to pleasure each other in the most perverted and depraved way possible, and I felt it deeply.
A heartbeat passed—a suspended moment of urgency and anticipation, then he whispered against my mouth, “Fuck it.”
