Deadly Obsession (The Obsession Duet 2)

“You’re not the devil, Zane. You’re the sun, and the moon, and every star in my galaxy. Without you, there would be no me. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry all of this happened.” I know I already apologized, but I feel like I need to say it a few more times for it to sink in.

I roll away from him, wondering if he can see the shame and sadness in my face. Wrapping an arm around my middle, he holds me possessively, like there is no way to escape him, not like I would try anymore.

“I just want a normal life…” I whisper, more to myself.

His lips trail against the back of my neck, and I shiver in his arms.

“Normal will come, my sweet, Dove. But not until we paint the city red and take over Matteo’s empire. Now sleep, you’ll need it for what I have prepared for you.”

“What’s that?” I murmur half asleep.

“You’ll see, tomorrow. I need to remind you who you belong to.” A tiny shiver of excitement runs through me as I remember the last time he showed me that I’m his. I remember how good he made me feel, how he tied me down and made my body sing. How he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of me.

I need this. Need him. All of him.

The dark and the light, the good and the bad. I need it all. I need his body against mine. Need his darkness like I need my next breath. If there is anything I’ve learned from this last month, it’s that the only constant in my life has been Zane. My stalker, and me, his obsession.

23

A knock sounds against the door, and I roll over with a groan, remembering that Dove is still hurt. The doctor assured me that she had nothing but a little bump on her head. He gave me some pain pills to give her but said that she was lucky to walk away with nothing more than a bump. Rolling out of bed, I tug on a pair of boxers from the floor and walk over to the door. Opening it, I’m greeted by Ivan’s emotionless face. The dude reminds me more of myself every day.

“Xander wants you and Dove to meet him downstairs for a meeting, whenever you are ready. Damon is here too,” he says and then turns around and walks back down the stairs.

Closing the door, I turn my attention back to Dove. She is curled up in the bed, looking broken. The last few weeks have taken a toll on her. Her wings clipped. Her beautiful face puffy from all the tears she shed last night.

She’ll learn to fly again soon, but it won’t be without me by her side. Rage and lust swirl together and burn like a raging inferno through my veins. I want to punish her. No. I need to. I need to remind her that she belongs to me and that it’s us together or nothing.

Reaching for her, I stroke her face gently like she’s made of the finest glass. She stretches like a kitten, lifting her arms above her head. Her blue eyes open, and I’m struck by their beauty. My obsession, my unwilling captive. She’s forever tied to me. Cupping her cheek, I lean in until our lips are almost touching. I allow myself to feel every emotion that I’ve repressed in the last couple of weeks. Hate. Anger. Pain. Betrayal.

My touch is gentle, even though it shouldn’t be. I could never hurt Dove, no matter what she did to me. I could never hurt her as she’s hurt me.

“I want you to know that even though I love you, I want to hurt you. I want to make you bleed the way you made my heart bleed when you forced me to leave you with Matteo,” I say, my voice quivering with emotion. I’d never been angrier and scared all at once. The memory of her forcing me to leave, telling the guards to toss me out is all I can see in my mind.

I was scared shitless for days, worried sick knowing that if something happened to her within the walls of that mansion, there was nothing I could do. I was forced to leave her unprotected, and I wouldn’t ever do that again.

Shocked by my confession, Dove’s pretty mouth pops open. I know she’s been through so much, everything she endured and discovered about her history. I know I should let her heal, give her more time, but I can’t stop myself from punishing her. Physically hurting her isn’t an option, but there are worse ways to make someone feel the pain they’ve inflicted on you.

“I want you naked and spread out for me.”

Understanding blankets her face, and her pink tongues dart out, wetting her bottom lip. I want to taste her lips, bite, and suck on them, but I can’t. Not yet. Pulling my hand away, I watch as she slowly slips out of her clothes, a cami, and pair of cotton panties, discarding them on the floor. My eyes roam over the length of her body, looking for any inflictions, cuts, wounds. Aside from a few bruises on her arms, I see nothing that worries me.