"You're playing with fire, Kaya." His grip on my arm tightens to the point where I know it's going to leave bruises.
"And I know how to let it out." I glare at him.
Mason Blackthorne, a cold and ruthless heir of the Blackthorne empire and maybe th...
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Early morning sun cascades down from the glass window and hits our bodies, illuminating a beautiful golden color on her skin.
She's still sound asleep. The room fills with her soft whimpers and light sound of the heater fixed in the walls.
As soon as I woke up, I found her curled up against my chest. She was shivering the entire night after I chased her down the woods. Last night was something which was unlike me. After I ate her out, her legs were limp so I carried her back to the house then changed her wet clothes into something more warm and comfortable.
After that, I made her sit by the fireplace and watched her staring at the burning wood. The yellow and orange color of the fire illuminated her face making her eyes look so pure and innocent. At that moment, she was like an abandoned kitten, begging for help during winter. When she caught me staring at her, she scoffed and called me a pervert, going back to her usual sassy personality.
Sometimes I find her attitude amusing and the other times, I find it very annoying. Like yesterday when she flipped me off and rolled her eyes, I wanted to bend her over and fuck it right out of her. But I tried to be very patient.
She stirs in her sleep and nuzzles her face into my chest, breathing out with a soft hum, making my dick twitch under the sheets. It's just the small things which have a huge effect on me. I brush a stray strand out of her face and examine her features.
She hasn't changed. Maybe her tits and ass grew a little bit but her face still remains the same. Those sharp angled eyebrows, evening blue sky eyes, cute nose and full pink lips. Her hair now cascades down, below her shoulders, perfect for me to twist it around my wrist and pull it. My gaze moves to her neck where I bit her two weeks ago. It's starting to fade. I resist the urge to pin her down and mark her all over again.
I sigh, slowly pulling away from her and off my bed. I don't even know why I got her to my bed last night. There were literally four other bedrooms other than mine. I look at her for the last time before leaving to take a shower.
I get inside the bathroom then strip naked and step in the cold shower. The water pierces into my skin like needles and I rest my head against the cold black marble wall, feeling the water prickle my skin. Cold water helps me bring back my senses. As soon as I close my eyes, the same images of me, in the Russian snow, watching him get shot, his blood all over my coat and his eyes slowly closing as he spoke his last words replays in my head. He was the final memory I had of her, my late mother.
I lift my head up, the cold water directly hitting my face. I adjust the water's temperature to hot and let it hit my face. I clench my jaw, trying to ignore the burn on my skin.
Bloody Mikhail. Motherfucker.
I shut the faucet then step out of the hot steam and stand in front of the mirror, wiping the fog off the glass. I grab my shaving cream then apply it around my jaw and cheeks. I pick up the razor from the stand and drag it down my face. I wash off the excess shaving cream from the razor and repeat the process again and again until I hear a loud thud outside the bathroom. I quickly clean my face and get out of the bathroom wrapping a towel, low around my waist.
