Page 56 of Deadmen's Queen
Young. He didn’t look young. My stomach churned. I should have grabbed the fucking paperweight off the desk and smashed Carver over the head with it.
Nate looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine directly for the first time.
“Do I make you sick?”
My mouth fell open. “What?”
“Now you know about… me. What I am. Does it make you sick?”
I hesitated, and pain flashed across his face. Without thinking, I reached up, laying my palm over his cheek.
“He makes me sick, Nate. Not you. I want to kill him for hurting you.”
He blinked, and his hand came up, covering mine rather than pulling it away. “You do?”
I nodded. “I want to kill him, and I want to do it slowly, so he really fucking hurts. Maybe even taking months.” I wasn’t exaggerating either. The pure rage I felt towards Carver burned in my gut. I hated him before, now I wanted to hear him scream.
Nate lowered his head and kissed me. It was surprisingly soft for him.
“No one has ever said something like that to me before,” he admitted.
I shook my head. “You haven’t told Bast and Tristan, have you? Because they would do anything for you, Nate, and I know they’d feel the same as me.”
Nate shook his head. “They can’t know, I don't want them to know how weak I am. It’s bad enough that they see some of the attacks.”
“You’re not weak, Nate. You’re so strong, the strongest man I’ve ever met.”
I slipped my hand round to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss me again. This time, I took control, kissing him passionately, wanting him to feel how much I cared for him. How much I…he pulled back, pushing me away roughly.
“No,” he snapped.
Shit. Too much. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to…”
“I can’t be with you, Paige. This isn’t some sweet romance where you tame the beast and he starts dreaming of white picket fences. I’m a monster, Paige.”
“I've seen the blood on your hands, Nate. And on your clothes. I’m not as naive as you think," I said gently.
“I’ve killed people for him, Paige. That’s what he does. Teams of mercenaries that go out and kill people.”
“Because it’s him making you do those things,” I said, trying to ignore the flicker of fear inside my chest.
“Because I like it,” he growled. “Because when I hear the screams and the blood on my hands, it makes me feel good, powerful. It’s why I can't have you, Paige. I need things that you can’t…”
I breathed in slowly, starting to understand all the times he’d held me in the night, clearly wanting me, and never letting me close after that one amazing night.
“What do you need, Nate?”
His eyes glittered as he looked down at me. “I want you restrained so you can’t move. I want you naked, so I can see every inch of that perfect skin before I start to mark it. I want to hurt you, Paige, I want to hear you scream. I want to fuck your mouth so hard, tears fall. I want you to beg for me. I want to hold you down and force my cock into you, and fuck you so hard you see stars. I want to use you up, until you can’t even imagine another man’s cock inside you, when the only name on your lips is mine.”
He spat the words as if disgusted by himself, but beneath me I felt his cock harden as he described everything he wanted to do to me and a thrill ran through me.
“Show me,” I whispered.
“What?” he froze. “Were you even listening to me? I’m a fucking monster, Paige. A rapist, just like him. I'm just like him…”
His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes, dropping his head back against the wall, banging it over and over. I moved, sliding my leg over his lap so I was sitting astride him and caught his head in my hands.
“Stop it, Nate. Look at me.” He stopped banging his head, but he didn’t open his eyes, breathing in hard.