Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(38)

“You’re an asshole!”

“Guilty.”

All this agreeing with me he’s doing is driving me mad. “Yesterday, you threatened to kill me.”

“I decided there are other things I’d like to do to you first.”

The tone of his voice leaves no question about his meaning. “That’s just…argh! You’re a sick, twisted—”

“Blah, blah, blah, yes. Whatever other bad names you’re about to call me, yes, you’re right.” His voice drops. “Now give me that fucking mouth again. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for the last twenty-four hours.”

He lowers his head so our faces are an inch apart. His blazing gaze burns into mine.

“And kiss me like you mean it or the body count starts.”

After that, he does nothing. He simply remains still, staring into my eyes with one hand fisted in my hair at the scruff of my neck and his strong arm wound around my back, pinning me against him.

He’s waiting for me to kiss him, the bastard!

My whisper is vehement. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

“If I put my hand between your legs right now, I could prove you a liar.”

NASA must be able to hear me grinding my teeth in anger all the way into outer space.

I mean, he’s right, but I’d rather die than admit it. I bypass his comment instead.

“Fine. I’ll kiss you. After that, you’ll leave?”

“No. I just won’t kill anyone. Tonight.”

I blow out a hard breath and close my eyes. “How do I know you won’t change your mind?”

“I give you my word.”

“You gave me your word you wouldn’t hurt me, too. Since then, you’ve threatened to kill me several times.”

“That was before I knew who you were.”

I open my eyes and look at him. “I’m the exact same person.”

“Not to me.”

I take a moment to examine his expression, then say, “This isn’t a plea for my life. I know you wouldn’t care about that. But let’s be clear about this: I just met Declan. I haven’t seen my sister in three years. I have nothing to do with the Irish Mob. I had nothing to do with what happened to your brother.”

“Maybe not. But if anything happens to you, your sister will blame herself. Then she’ll blame Declan. Then his life will be miserable. I want him to be miserable for a while before I kill him. I want him to be so fucking miserable, he wishes he were never born.”

I think for a moment, then admit reluctantly, “Your logic doesn’t suck.”

“Thank you.”

“But you really expect me to kiss you still? With my own death hanging over my head?”

“You seemed very capable of it last night.”

His eyes burn so hotly, I have to look away. He grasps my jaw and turns my face back to his. “Convince me not to kill you. Kiss me like your life is on the line. Because it is.”

“Are you trying to make me hate you? Spoiler alert: it’s working.”

His eyes flash. He growls, “My patience is wearing thin.”

My heart beats like a hammer. My face is flushed. My stomach is clenched and my chest is tight, and if I had a gun in my hand right now, I’d shove it under his chin and pull the trigger.

Staring up into his eyes, I say very deliberately, “I’m only doing this for Kieran and Spider. And don’t forget what I said about my ghost coming back to haunt you. If you don’t like this kiss, and I die because of it, I’ll haunt your arrogant ass until the end of time.”

Then I go up on my toes and kiss him.

He opens his mouth with a moan and kisses me back with a vengeance.

I guess vengeance is like his whole thing.

Though I initiated the kiss, he takes over within seconds. Curling his hand around my throat, he tilts my head back with his other hand and drinks deep from my mouth, holding my head in place as I cling to him, desperate not to make the small noises of pleasure building in my chest.

I have to remind myself as he sweeps his tongue against mine that this is for Spider. It’s for Kieran. It’s for me, too, but I’m pretty much already dead, anyway.

Second by second, this kiss is killing me. Whenever he decides to end it, I’ll slide to the floor and expire at his feet.

Maybe that’s been his plan all along. This is how he’ll murder me.

Death by estrogen overload.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he rasps, breaking away. He’s breathing as hard as I am.

I say faintly, “It’s the Twizzlers. Are we done?”

“Not a goddamn chance.”

He kisses me again, fitting his mouth to mine, letting go of my neck to dig both his big hands into my hair. He presses against me and takes my mouth so ravenously, I’m bent back over the sink. I have to wind my arms up around his shoulders for balance.

We stand like that, mouths fused, pressed together from crotch to chest, kissing and kissing and kissing, until I’m dizzy and my knees are shaking and I’m about to pass out.

Then he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me out of the bathroom.

I panic as he approaches the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Anything I want.”

The only light in the room is from the bathroom, but it’s enough for me to see the intense expression of hunger on his face.