Blood Red | Bellamy Blake (1)

Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive. Sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.
Excerpt:
Even when she felt the urge to drop her eyes, she didn't. She needed him to know that she wasn't judging him, that she couldn't judge him because she was a thousand times more fucked up than he was. She liked it when he left bruises in the shape of his hands on her hips and thighs and throat. She liked it when bruises bloomed around the teeth prints he left on her neck and the way she felt like she wasn't going to be able to move the next day because of him. The pain let her keep him in a way that wouldn't go away, even when he wasn't right next to her.