Page 153 of Watch Me Burn
I run my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, marveling at the fact that I can just touch him now. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Did you pay off my mortgage and student loans?”
He doesn’t evenhesitate. “Yes.”
The casual admission makes me want to both smack him and kiss him.
“What about the donation for Titus’ enclosure?”
He doesn’t bother with words this time, just raises an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine to take care of now. And don’t fucking look at me like that. This is how it’s going to be. Get used to it.”
“I’m annoyed at the presumption.” I brush my lips against his. “But thank you.”
When I start to pull away, his hand fists in my hair, holding me in place. “More.”
I laugh, the sound trapped between our mouths, but I give in. The kiss goes on until my chest burns and my head swims. When we finally surface, both pulling in ragged breaths, he’s wearing this look—satisfaction bordering on smug, like he’s just conquered the world. My heart kicks hard against my ribs, expanding until it feels too large for the space it occupies.
Then his smile fades, and he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “I’m not an easy man, Luna, and that’s not going to change, no matter how much I love you.”
“I know.” I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. “I’m not asking you to change. But I need to make sure you understand, Damien. No matter how much I love you, I won’t tolerate any more manipulation or secrets.”
He shifts beside me, sitting up and settling back against the headboard. His hand finds the edge of the sheet. With one tug, the fabric slides down, pooling at my waist. Cool air hits my skin. His gaze travels over my exposed breasts, my stomach, lingering on every inch. I suspect I'm going to spend most of my time naked now that I’m in a relationship with my wolf.
“What about my work?”
The euphemism almost makes me laugh. His work. Like he’s an accountant instead of a vigilante who leaves bodies in his wake.
I take a deep breath, having thought about this while I was watching him sleep.
“I won’t ask you to stop. I don’t have the right to ask that, and I’m not sure I would even if I did.”
Surprise flickers across his features. “Most women would demand I give it up.”
“I’m not most women.” I reach out, tracing one of the warped human figures climbing up his arm. The ink is beautiful and terrible, just like the man wearing it. “But I need to understand. What I saw the other night, that cold rage, that capacity for violence—is that always there? Just beneath the surface? Is that what allows you to do what you do without remorse?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his blue-gray eyes never leaving mine. “Yes.”
I appreciate that he doesn’t try to soften it.
“It’s part of who I am. Has been since that night. The only difference now is that I’ve learned to channel it, to control it rather than letting it control me.”
I lean forward, pressing my lips gently to his. “Thank you.” The words brush against his mouth. “For telling me the truth.”
He pulls back to study my face. “And does the truth change how you feel? Now that you’ve seen what I’m capable of up close?”
I witnessed his violence firsthand, the cold, calculated way he incapacitated Caleb, causing the injuries that led to his death. I should have been terrified and repulsed. Instead, I felt protected. Even God help me, aroused, though not until later, by the raw power he commanded with little effort.
“No. But I can’t be a part of what you do, Damien. I can look the other way because I know for some of these animals, the only justice they’ll ever receive is the one you mete out for them. And while part of me says it’s wrong, that no one has the right to take another life, no matter the justification, the other part…”
“Understands the necessity,” he finishes for me. “Recognizes that sometimes the system fails, and someone has to step into that gap.”
“Yes.”
