The Art of Malice

"It's you I want," he lets me know, so quietly. My stomach tightens and my breath catches when his head falls forward, on to my shoulder. He breathes me in deeply, lashes fluttering over my skin. I'm the most dangerous person in this room, but when his lips press against me, I've never felt weaker.

"Don't say that," I plead, because I want him too, and it's such an awful thing. He weaves his fingers into my hair, guiding my head to the side, then slowly moves his lips on my neck, right where my pulse thrums. I grip the leather of his jacket, and close my eyes tightly. "You know what I'll do to you," I remind him in a breath.

I feel his mouth stretch wryly in a grin. "Do it," he whispers into my ears. "Reach into my skin and hold my beating heart in your hands. Take everything you can from me and show me the worst of it." His thigh slots between my legs, friction heating up my already scorching hot body. He's kerosene and I'm a flame.

"But, I- "my words cut, when the grip in my hair tightens. My eyes open, his forehead presses against mine.

"Because when I come back from it," he promises, pressing me against the wall, trapping me as his hand slips under my dress, fingerprints imbedding into my flesh, "I'll be the one under your skin and in your bones, baby."

~

Or; Briar feeds off of the malice she can cause and Seven has the power to pacify her before she can even try. Except, he doesn't want to.