Page 63 of Born into Madness
The corner of his mouth lifts up at seeing my body’s reaction to his words. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits, “and I needed the release. Once I was done, I couldn’t resist spreading it all over your lips.” He groans at the memory. “God, you opened so quickly for me, so eager to consume what I’d just released, like you wanted a part of me inside you, like you were craving it.”
I have no idea what to say to that. Everything he’s said is true. I had been greedy for it, desperate for a piece of him, and I’d happily do it again. While that information swims around in myhead, he fills the fork with syrupy pancakes and holds it to my lips.
“I can feed myself,” I say, but then I open up and let him feed me the breakfast he made especially for me.
“I know you can, but I’m quickly learning that I enjoy taking care of what’s mine.” He stabs more pancake onto the fork and holds it up again, waiting patiently while I finish chewing.
Before I take the next bite, I ask, “What’s yours?”
“Yes,” the word is spoken with such finality, making it clear it’s not even up for discussion. My inner feminist side-eyes me, but there’s no denying I like it when he says things like this. I like the growly possessive side of Sasha. I wouldn’t like it if he started telling me I need to quit college so I can be at home to scrub his toilets and cook his meals, but he’s never once acted like that.
“You’re mine, Cyn,” he says, feeding me another bite. “Just like I’m yours.”
When he sees the smile I can’t hide, he returns it, giving me one of his rare, full smiles. He keeps feeding me, and by the time my plate is empty, it’s almost time for us to go, and I have to rush to get ready. While he takes care of the breakfast dishes, I take the world’s quickest shower, wishing I had more time to admire the size of his bathroom. The walk-in shower is the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen, and the large soaking tub is calling my name. Unfortunately, I can’t spare the time right now. With my hair piled on my head because no way in hell do I have the time to wash it right now, I make an executive decision and borrow Sasha’s toothbrush. I’m forced to put on yesterday’s clothes, minus my panties because they’re in pieces somewhere. It feels weird wearing his boxers, but it’s better than going commando.
As I’m walking downstairs to find him, I’m hit with a sudden vicious cramp. Groaning, I grip the railing and pause, waiting for it to pass. Heavy, painful periods have been a part of my life since my first one at thirteen. I’ve learned to keep very closetrack of them, but sometimes it’ll show up a day or two early. Looks like this month might be an unpredictable one. Lovely.
“Cyn, what’s wrong?”
I look up at the sound of Sasha’s worried voice. He races across the room to me, cupping my face while his eyes do a quick scan of my body.
“Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I try to tell him, but he ignores what I’m saying and picks me up with an ease that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to and carries me to the couch. “I really am fine,” I say again, but he’s still giving me a worried look and doesn’t seem convinced. Finally, I say, “It’s just cramps, Sasha. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He cocks his head, giving me déjà vu of the night we first met. I vividly remember the eerie way he’d looked while wearing that bloody mask, towering over me with that same slight tilt of his head, probably trying to figure out if he should let me go or kill me.
Before he can say anything, I blurt out, “Did you think about killing me that night? Did some part of you want to?”
Squatting down so he’s right in front of me, he rests his hands on my thighs, and then slowly meets my eyes. “The truth?”
“Always,” I say. “I always want the truth, even if it’s not something I’ll want to hear.”
“Then yes,” he says, and there’s no hiding that it’s painful to hear, far worse than the cramps that are still pummeling my stomach. “I think about killing everyone I meet, Cyn.” He raises a brow and adds, “Especially when it’s someone who’s just witnessed me killing three men, but when I thought about killing you, it didn’t excite me, didn’t give me the thrill it usually does.”
He shrugs his broad shoulders, looking like he’s still confused by his reaction. “I’ve never experienced anything like it. I already had you in my head from the night you fed Chort,and then I spared your life and made sure you got back to your dorm safely.” His thumbs caress my legs while he says, “I think a part of me knew you were mine from the very beginning, the one person I’d never want to harm.”
“What if you change your mind?” I can’t help but ask.
His light-blue eyes light up with amusement when he asks, “Scared of me,krovinka?”
“I should be,” I say. “If I had any sense, I would be.”
Reaching up, he runs his finger along the length of my neck. “I could never hurt you, my little Cyn. If I thought for one second that was a possibility, I would never allow you near me.”
Horrified by the idea, I ask, “Do you think that might happen one day?”
The grin he gives me is the sweetest one yet when he says, “No, I don’t. I can’t explain how I know, Cyn, but I do, and I need you to trust me. I will never hurt you. I’m just not capable of it, and it’s not because there’s a rule against it. I don’twantto hurt you. Rule or no rule, making you bleed would bring me no pleasure. The very idea sickens me.”
Grabbing my hand, he brings it to his chest. My palm presses against his hard pec, and I feel the steady beat of his heart beneath it.
“I know it here,” he says. “And I need you to believe it. I don’t want you scared of me.” A small grin peeks through. “Not like that anyway. I don’t want you to fear for your life when you’re with me. I will never hurt you, but I will kill anyone who does.”
“It’s probably wrong that I think that’s sweet, but it is.”
“I’m glad you like my particular brand of sweetness,” he says. “I’m guessing it’s not for everyone.”
“Probably not,” I agree, “but you can’t kill anyone because of me.”
