****
“You’re mine. And I’ll make damn sure you never forget that.”
“You’re a monster.”
His gloved fingers curled into my blouse, fisting the fabric at my waist. “I’m your monster,” he said quietly.
I looked up into that awful black mask, the two eye holes glinting with ice and fury.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Silence.
I don’t know why I said it. Maybe because I was afraid. Maybe because I was reckless. Maybe because he needed to be reminded he was human under all that steel and death.
But I said it.
“…Your mask makes you look like a sock puppet.”
His head tilted slightly.
“…What?”
“You heard me.”
He stared at me like I’d slapped him.
“A very angry, idiot sock puppet.”
His shoulders twitched.
Was that a… breath?
I pushed again. “Do you sleep in it too? Or just shower with it on?”
He exhaled sharply. “You want to push me right now?”
“I want to mock you right now.”
“You think I won’t bite back?”
I met his eyes. “Do it.”
The gloved hand at my waist slid upward—slow, deliberate—and seized my chin. His thumb pressed into my jaw.
“You want to see what happens to smart little mouths like yours?”
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
“Doll—”
“Commander Sockface.”
That was it.
He snapped.
He yanked me forward by the chin and kissed me—hard.
His mouth crashed onto mine through the mouth-slit of his tactical balaclava. It was brutal, consuming, no space between us. His kiss didn’t ask—it took. His tongue swept past my lips without hesitation, claiming everything.
I gasped.
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