THE DEVIL'S AFFECTION

43. BITTER

          SOMETHING WITHIN him has changed. As if a switch went off, he's become a lot more aggressive. The look of hate in his eyes ignites me but the look of love holds me close. He looks like he could kill me while also looking like he's fighting the urge to kiss me.

He has me backed up against the wall as we part our lips.

"What? What do you think you're gonna do to me?" I look up hazily into his eyes.

"Oh, dandelion, there's a lot of things that I want to do to you." He moves his hand up from my neck to my jaw. "There's lots of things I could do to you..."

"Yeah?" I look down at his parted lips.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, you know that?" He looks down at my lips, his face inching closer to mine.

"And you've been the same for me. I think we're pretty even."

"I don't think there will ever be an even, baby." He uses his index finger to pet my skin while he holds my jaw still.

He slides his hand down to unbutton my pants, unzipping them and slipping his hand under my panties to find my clit. He begins to rub it and I look into his eyes, weak from his touch.

"I had to leave my life behind because of you." He begins to circle my clit, moving faster now. My legs feel weak as my entire focus falls on the pleasure. "I didn't think taking a pretty little thing like you would cause so many problems. You were my greatest temptation that I couldn't refuse."

"You were just a miserable asshole anyway, so what's the difference?" I pant.

"I may be a miserable asshole. I could have the world handed to me on a platter and it still wouldn't be enough. I know that much." He scans my body; his eyes lingering from my eyes down to my feet and back up. "But something about you, baby," he takes a deep breath. "...makes you worth losing it all."

"You have a very strange way of showing it." I nearly grit my teeth.

"Maybe not, but when I do this—" he puts more pressure as he rubs me faster. My legs shake at the sudden change in speed. "— I think I've got a pretty good way of making you feel it."

I fall into heavy breaths, getting closer to cumming by just his fingers.

"Hearing you beg for me... for my attention, fuck, that gets me hard, baby."

"I don't beg," I lie.

"Oh, dandelion, we both know that's not true." He looks down into my eyes.

"I can feel you losing interest."

He presses his lips to my ear. "You think I don't want to fuck you for every second that we live in this place? You don't think that I think about all the things I would do to you if I could." He whispers in my ear.

"What's stopping you?" I bite my lip and grin.

"I wouldn't want to hurt you, dandelion." His voice is raspy and dark. "There's a part of me that likes watching pain; a part of me that I hate. But, fuck, is it a big part of me. Usually, I'd be all over it. With you, however, it just wouldn't feel as good."

He may think that he likes to watch pain but I can tell, just by the way that he looked at my scars, that he doesn't. He may think he likes to watch pain, but he just likes to feel powerful — there's nothing powerful about causing true pain.

"You're very concerned about me for someone who cares so little."

"Oh, dear, I care so very much. More than you think."

"You know, I used to question if you're capable of loving or being loved."

"Maybe I shouldn't be, but you don't have to worry about that. Or do you?" He smirks down at me. "If I'm honest, I think I care so much about you that it makes me hate you in some ways. I get so angry with the hold you have over me." His hand slips down from my jaw to my neck again.

"I just hate you just as much." I admit, frustratedly.

"Good." He presses his lips against mine.

He pulls at my bottom lip, letting my moans seep out. The buzzing ecstasy coming closer to execution. I rock my hips with his fingers, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

"And when you don't have me anymore..." he pulls his fingers away, the pleasure leaving almost immediately and fading to dust. "... I'll hear you beg for me again."

"What are you doing?" I furrow my brows as he pulls away.

"I didn't ruin anything for you, dandelion. Don't forget where you are." He taunts before walking off.

Left in sexual frustration and my hate for him building, I realize the hurtful fact overshadowing all of this; I need him. I want him more than I want out of this place. I may be completely losing it, but the man I've fallen for is the last one I needed. He fights to be good; he isn't naturally so. That's clear. But something about him fighting for it makes it feel so much better when he is good.

I'm only mad because I can feel his interest slipping, his love slipping. Something I rejected for so long is something I now feel the need to beg for. What have I become?