his dark obsession

say you belong to me

AngelMarie's POV

I was tired of running. Tired of living life on the road, never stopping, just an endless road of nothing in front of me. Really tired. I was tired of looking over my shoulder every day, tired of going to bed after meaningless sexual encounters every night, only to still feel lonely after they left. I was tired of having to move from state to state for fear of attachment to any city or to people. Tired of having to pay with cash because I wasn't mentally stable enough to open a bank account, without my fucked-up thoughts shifting to killing the bank teller because they said something I didn't like, like asking for a driver's license or if I had a social security card.

The tiredness grew into exhaustion. Exhaustion was a heavy load on my back, pressing me down, wrapped tightly around me, and suffocating me, but I'd always managed to shake the grip off when it got too tight. But I don't think I'll be able to this time. Vladimir Petrovski brought out emotions in me I'd never experienced before, and they scared me shitless, but also ignited me like a fire. I wanted to know him. I wanted to be with him more than my next breath, but I couldn't. If he knew the real me, the mentally fucked-up me, he'd run, and I couldn't bear that. My fucked-up mind wouldn't be able to handle that.

I had to stay the fuck away from the man they called "the Russian Soul Snatcher." He was going to be the death of me, I thought. Daring to drag my eyes away from the dangerously handsome man who had his arm wrapped possessively around my waist, I pried his arm gently from around me and slipped quietly from the warm, comfortable bed. Quickly gathering my clothes and dressing, I tied off the torn bodysuit at the top till it looked somewhat decent. Picking up my heeled boot, I began making my way to the door.

"Where do you think you're going, kitten?" His deep voice rumbled out, filled with sleep.

"I-I was going to the bathroom," I stuttered, squirming under his dark gaze.

"Fully clothed?" He said, getting up from bed, the sheets falling, revealing his naked, muscle-bound body as he stalked to me.

I took a deep breath as I was pushed against the wall, his hands caging me in. My boots fell by my feet. Under his dark gaze, he said nothing, just looked at me, waiting for me to continue, and I felt my body begin to fill with regret, anxiety, and shame.

See, this is why I never let anyone stay the night or share a bed with me. I didn't do these kinds of emotions. They made me feel weak. They made the voices in my head go crazy.

"Vlad, please." I started, but I was on edge. And I knew why. I wasn't sure how he was going to act toward me after our time spent together the day before. Was he going to toss me aside now that he got what he wanted, what no man has had before from me? Was he going to take me in his arms and kiss me? Was he going to stake his claim as he'd done before? Or would he pretend as if he didn't even know me? That last thought broke me mentally. Voiding my face of emotion, I took a breath.

"It was a mistake, Vlad," I stammered, as I mentally tried to distance myself from him.

He frowned and leaned down until his eyes were directly in front of mine. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" He growled, his hand winding tightly around my neck in a tight grip.

"What we... what we did. It... We can't do it again. It was a mistake," I told him through the hold on my throat that had me close to passing out due to lack of oxygen.

"The hell we can't, angel!" he roared, picking me up by my throat, slamming me up the wall to the point my feet dangled, and the vibration was so strong the vase beside the bathroom door fell onto the floor and shattered. This was what I wanted to avoid. This confrontation.

His amber eyes glowed with a roaring fire backed by the flames of hell. His nostrils flared with uncontrolled rage, and I worried that he would hurt me. His eyes told me he wanted to badly. But when I felt his touch on my thighs, beneath the fabric of my bodysuit, I knew any pain he inflicted would only be painful and pleasurable to me. And only in the context of him screwing my brains out after he punished and abused my body to its limits. Dear God, I was twisted, mentally insane, and this man was only making it worse because if I was insane, he was batshit crazy, and the both of us together was chaos in its rawest form.