take care of me like this. I don’t know what the fuck to do with the emotions she’s making me feel. I don’t know what the fuck to do with her.

She snuggles down.

“You should go to bed,” I order, my voice sounding thicker than usual.

“Not while you’re still awake.”

The stubbornness in her tone has my mouth lifting at the corners into something I didn’t know I was capable of—a fucking smile.

What the hell is she doing to me?

I clear my throat, trying to regain control of this situation, but she has me dripping in confusion. I don’t know which way is up and which is down. She turns me inside out, makes me question things I’ve never questioned before. I don’t know how to deal with what she’s doing to me.

“Amalia…”

“You don’t get to boss me around, Fury.” Her voice is serious, but there is a hint of humour in her words too.

This woman does things to me I can’t explain, things I don’t want to explain. She makes the claws digging into my heart loosen enough to let that little muscle beat freely on its own.

“Ain’t bossing you. Just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t know that.”

I hear her little contented sigh. What the hell she has to be content about, I don’t know. This situation is fucked up. She’s sitting with a psychopath, a devil dressed in leather and denim while waiting for a crazy lunatic to try to break into her flat again.

As much as I try to deny it, I like her sitting next to me. I imagine my hand slipping onto her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin under my hand, but I don’t move. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to touch her, to poison her with my darkness.

We sit in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, though it probably should be.

“Fury?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t like being touched, do you?”

“No,” I admit, a hint of shame flooding my veins. I’ve never liked it, since I was a little boy and the men my mother brought around would try to caress me in ways no little kid should ever be touched. It made my skin crawl and to this day I can’t stomach it, but Amalia is the first person I’ve thought it might not feel so bad to have touch me. I hate that I’m like this. It makes me feel like what Sin says I am—a freak.

“Have you always been this way?”

“Don’t try to psychoanalyse me.” My reply is gruff and I’m glad it’s dark, so she can’t see the shame crawling over my skin.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” She pauses. “Can I touch you?”

I swallow hard, my stomach filling with something I’ve never felt before—expectation. I want her mouth on mine so badly it hurts.

“Why?”

“Does why matter?”

To me, yeah, it does. I need to know if her motives are sincere or if she’s poking the bear to see if it’ll come out roaring. I don’t want to unleash anything dark on her. Ever. The urge to protect her is strong.

“Can I?” she presses.

I can’t deny her anything. As much as I want to say no, I also want to see what it will feel like to have her hands on me. Will it be as I imagined? She’s touched me twice before this and each time I felt the familiar sting on my skin, but this is different. This isn’t taking me by surprise, this is being done with permission. I swallow my fear down and steel myself.

“Okay.” My voice sounds like it’s shredded raw and I hate how weak I sound. I’m not that kind of man, but Amalia shreds what’s left of my control.

I brace as I see her hand come towards me, holding my breath until I feel light-headed. Her eyes slide to mine before she slips her hand onto my chest, over my heart. I freeze, feeling her heat blazing onto my skin, but I’m not crawling in the usual filth I feel when someone touches me. It feels good, right, nice.

It’s a crossroads, one I didn’t realise I was standing at until this moment. When she leans in, I brace, not sure what to expect, but her mouth presses against my cheek. I expect my body to tense, but it doesn’t. I feel nothing but the thrill that her lips are on my skin.

It’s over too fast and when she pulls back, I feel the loss of her touch like a hit of grief. I let out a shaky breath and run my fingers over my head. My skin tingles with electricity. She touched me, and for the first time it didn’t burn or hurt. I felt… normal.

The urge to take her grows inside me like a poison spreading through my veins. I shouldn’t, but my body moves before I can stop it. I flip her so she’s under me along the length of the sofa. She feels warm, soft beneath me. I should be freaking out, but I feel strangely calm.

I can’t see her eyes fully in the darkness, but she doesn’t push me off or tell me to get off her, so I dip my head and press my mouth to hers. She moans against my lips and that makes my cock go solid behind my zip. I can hear nothing but the sounds of our breaths as I trace along the seam of her mouth and gain access to one of her greatest treasures—her tongue. Slowly, I caress its length, sucking it into my mouth and when she pants against me, I nearly come in my jeans. She’s the first woman I’ve kissed in so long, I’m not sure I can remember how to do it, but it’s like muscle memory kicks in and I’m moving without thought.

She doesn’t touch me, I notice, which I’m grateful as fuck for. I don’t think I can keep doing this with her hands on me, but she lets me take control. My brain is screaming at

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