Make Me Sin (Dark Gods #1)

Chapter 27

The man is crazy. I'm not ready for another round of whatever that was. I even think I might not survive it.But that's not the only thing troubling me right now. “We... we didn't use any protection,” my tone concerned because that would be the last thing I need right now. I can't ruin another person's life, not when I'm doing such a perfect job of ruining my own.

“You don't have to worry about that, Ya'amar. It can only happen when, or if I want it. Trust me.”

I can't believe this man; he's so stuck-up that he thinks he can control even our biological functions. He's delusional, and I wish I could argue with him. But he just asked me to trust him, and even if I know he's out of his mind, I don't have the power to deal with what will happen if I rebel against him.

“I need to get clean,” I say as I try to leave the bed without any success. His arm which is still tightly wrapped around my stomach doesn't seem to budge.

“No,” he rasps.

“What do you mean, no?” My thighs tense as I feel them coated in his juices. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Immediately his hand races up on my inner thigh, searching for the mess he made there. And I don't mean just his cum running between my legs; I mean the mess he made of my core.

I know exactly what he's doing. He's marking me like a damn animal. First with his blood, then with the faded bite marks I wear on my skin, and now with his cum.And I’m not doing anything to stop him.

His hand goes up on my thighs, then on my stomach, then between my breasts, until he reaches my lips, as if fucking me ten minutes ago wasn't enough. Damn, he wasn't kidding when he was talking about not being done with me.

“Is my pussy ready for me?” he asks, a devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“No,” I utter as fast as I can, so he won't get any more ideas right now. My body is not built for this kind of sex—or at least not trained for it. And it's definitely not trained for a second round. I used to be grateful if Nick lasted through the first.

But Seth is definitely built differently. In every sense of the word.

“She will be,” he chants, pulling my thighs open, and giving me a spank right on my wet core.

My body jerks like a damn dog waiting for its master, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened, and why do I find this so hot instead of cringe-worthy or repulsive?

I must have brain damage. Or maybe I’m internally bleeding from all the sex, and my nerves are beginning to malfunction.

I know that fighting Set is a bad idea, but right now I don't see any other option. Leaping on the other side of the bed, I try to run away and lock myself in the bathroom for at least an hour or so until I would somehow recover. That was the only plan I could come up with on such short notice. But I don't get far. Actually, I don't even make it out of bed. Set catches me right as I'm about to put my feet down on the floor, and with a swift move, he gets me face down on the sheet, infusing poisonous thoughts into my mind as a long line of kisses descends down my spine. That should sound so awful to hear for someone who's being held captive, but right now it sounds inviting and warm, like when you lie on a beach island, and the sun gently caresses your skin, letting the feeling that you're in paradise finally set in.

Only this is a very different kind of Paradise. One I’m not sure I want to escape anymore.

Set makes room between my legs as I'm still pinned face down on the mattress; his body strong as a rock, reminding me that I don't have any space to move. Suddenly, I feel his erect cock sliding down my back, between the valley of my ass, making me freeze for a second as he stops there just to play with my nerves.

I snarl, and I hear him laugh as he slides further down, until he reaches the slick entrance of my pussy.My teeth clench as if they're about to break as he enters me without warning. The intrusion is almost painful, stretching me out, to the verge of tearing me apart. I repeat, I was so not built for this. And I'm so not ready for what Set plans to do with me. It's like I'm a cripple running a fucking marathon.

The damn piercing runs over my walls, leaving a warm trail behind that prickles my skin. A loud gasp escapes me as I feel him forging inside me, his cock, hard and demanding, asking me for things that I'm beginning to think are going to break me. Or at least my pussy, because I feel him moving in the pit of my stomach again, claiming another orgasm from me while one of his hands runs through my hair, wrapping along its length.

He seems even more driven than before, like he held back earlier, and now he's about to break free.

I can't help myself from panting like I've gone mad, even though the harder I do it, the harder he begins to move. My hands are now fists, my nails digging into my own skin until I start bleeding. I don't even care anymore. I want him to stop, and I want him to go on as he builds an orgasm within me that makes me want to scream.

“Fuck,” I hear him roar as I tighten around his length so hard that I think I'm about to break it in half.I hope I break it. It would only be the right punishment for what he’s doing to me. “You're so fucking perfect,” he breathes into my ear, sneaking a hand between the sheet and my stomach, pressing it down my belly. I feel his hips swinging as he crashes into me, burying himself so deeply within me that I feel his cock hitting that hand he uses to keep me locked to him. “This is how badly I want you.”

He seems so feral that I can't help myself from begging, “Please.” I whimper, feeling like if he's going to keep this up, I don't know what's going to happen to me.

“Please, what?” he grunts. “Please, stop? Please, more? Please, make you come.”

I really don't want to say it, but everything is too intense—like he’s taking my reasoning away. I don't even know when my body managed to build up that tension again, but my lips murmur, “The last one.” I'm out of breath as I say it.

But it's not enough for him. “It doesn't work that way, Ya’amar. Tell me. Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”

That sounds so alluring, I even consider asking for my freedom since he just declared he would give me whatever I want. But this genie in a bottle will fulfill just one wish, and right now it's not freedom that I want. “Please make me come again.” I could shoot myself for asking something like this from him, but right now, I don’t seem to find it in me to care. All I want is him, and the madness he brings along.

“Like this?” he asks, resting his hand further on my belly, his fingers barely touching my clit. Feeling him thrust a couple more times, I'm having trouble breathing. I plead, curse, and moan until I feel every thrust cutting off my air supply. I come so hard that I think I scream into the pillow for long minutes, trying to cope with every explosion that seems to be demolishing my body. But the bastard seems set on destroying me, “One more time, Ya'amar, and I’ll let you rest.” His hips push mine into the mattress while one of his hands reaches between my thighs to further torment me and the other hand goes around me like a snake, reaching for my breast. And his hips start moving, turning time into a blur. I cry out again, feeling that he just depleted me of the last of my strength. My body quivers for one last time, and I hear him grunt behind me as he comes.

My eyes are heavy, but every cell inside me is still filled with adrenaline like I just overdosed. Maybe, against my will, I’ve overdosed on Set. And it feels so fucking amazing.

I'm suddenly cold, and it's as if he knows it, he pulls the sheet over our bodies while his arms wrap around mine. “You're mine now... for eternity,” he whispers with a voice so warm that if I didn't know better, I wouldn't believe was his.

I find myself snuggling into his arms as if I’ve been waiting to do this for too long. I’m still trembling from before, even though I'm not sure if my body is shaking because of him or because of me—because of what I just let happen. Because of what I wanted to happen.

I never said anything in return for his confession, and he knows better than to push things further. He just cages me between his arms, and I try to sleep while the word “ mine ” keeps spinning in my head, imprinting itself on every corner of my conscience.

I am his property. His because of my mistakes, but that's not truly what makes me his. It's something else coming from within me—something much more dangerous than even Set himself. It's the way I need him, the way I want him, while at the same time, I want to cut out that part of me that craves him. I should settle only for fear. It’s the only reasonable emotion I should have when it comes to this man, and although I still fear his power, it's not the only thing I feel for him.

My eyes squeeze, trying to stay closed as I fight back the tears gathering beneath my eyelids. I don't know if I'm in ecstasy, scared, satisfied, or whatever. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.

I try to remain in bed—I really do—maybe for an hour or so before I feel there’s no more air left in this room and that my thoughts will destroy me by the morning.

I just slept with the man who turned me into a killer.

I just slept with a cold-blooded killer.

I just slept with a monster.

My legs are wobbly as I get out of bed, and I'm sore in places I didn't even know it was possible, but I don't stop until I reach the bathroom. It's not like a shower will fix anything, but it is the only thing that I can think of to wash—at least the memory of my sins—away from my body.

I can't even tell if I'm still in shock from all the things that happened, or it’s because I feel there's a new me waiting to break free—a part of me I don't want to meet.

My hands are shaky as I turn on the water, and start rubbing my skin until it hurts. I want everything that represents him away from me because, in reality, I want him so badly that I don't know what to do with myself. That doesn’t change the fact that he's fucking pure evil, and I can't allow myself to forget that for even one second.

Closing my eyes, I try to make sense of things. I'm so confused right now that I feel like I'm living in someone else’s body. It's like day by day Set is winning over a part of me, and I'm afraid I will get to the point where I don't want him to stop.

The water is running through my hair, making it flow in long strands over my breasts, when I feel a hand sneaking around my waist. “Set...” I whisper, acknowledging his presence, hoping the water will cover my tears. I don’t want him to see the internal war he ignites within me.

“What did I say?” he asks, looking down on me as I wash myself of him, contrary to what he ordered earlier.

I want to remain strong and deal with every single overwhelming emotion. But I can't, and my lips murmur a truth I don’t want him to hear. “I... I can't.”

His gaze goes back up to meet mine, and while I'm expecting him to be mad at me, his eyes narrow like he's trying to understand what's going on with me. With a gentle move, he brushes his fingers through my hair to arrange the long strands that drape my face. Then his hand hovers over my lips, lazy fingers stroke them, and within a second I'm about to fucking melt again. But this time, there's something much stronger than lust that breaks the surface. It's a struggle to keep my mental sanity, especially since he looks so damn alluring, every ripped muscle coated with sparkling drops of water. At least he has a towel wrapped around his waist; not that the weight of the water pressing against his body leaves much to the imagination, but somehow it helps with my power of self-persuasion.

Now, who am I kidding? It doesn't, especially since he looks at me with those dark eyes like he's consuming every part of me without even touching me.

Maybe he'll punish me for disobeying him. Maybe deep down, I even want him to. But there's a fine line keeping me from totally losing myself. And I'm doing my best not to cross it.

“What's wrong?” he asks, looking at me as if it's the first time in his life he doesn't know what to do.

I want to open my mouth and say something to make him understand what he's really doing to me, but I can't. My lips only manage to tremble uncontrollably, and I can't stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Ya'amar,” he slowly chants, like he's trying to get me to reason with him. It only takes a second before his mouth joins mine slowly and unhurriedly, trying to smother my sobbing. “I promise you that one day, not far away from now, everything will make sense.” He whispers between kisses as his hands fall down my back to draw me in closer to him. He's hard again. I can feel it through that towel as his cock is pressing on my stomach, making me wetter than the water that falls from above us.

We remain unmoved for long minutes while he’s kissing me with the same melting, mesmerizing pace. It's like he's trying to take away my fears one by one. Not the fear of him though. The fear of myself.

My body is weak again, and with each second, I am more and more in need of him. That's exactly why I want him to stop, before he makes me hop in again in the same insane carousel of uncontained cravings.

His hands slip down my legs, and I know he wants to lift me from the floor, but before he gets a chance to do it, my palms press against his chest. “Please, I can't...”

That gets him to stop. A disappointed gaze replaces the fire in his eyes as if I didn't understand anything by now, like I'm missing something essential. And I have a feeling he's going to do his best to explain it to me.

“Serena,” he tries to sound imposing, probably to snap me away from my thoughts so I’d pay attention to him. But I sense a slight insecurity in his voice that hasn’t been there before.

Taking my hand, he presses it against the large bulge that's hiding beneath his towel.“It's not only this that wants you,” he says locking his eyes with mine, while I feel him trailing my hand up on his body, over every defined muscle and every sexy-as-hell tattoo, until it reaches the left side of his chest. “It's also this.” My hand is now over his heart, and that makes me look at him like I'm dumbstruck.

For a few seconds, everything goes blank, and I only hear my own heart pounding in my ears. I can see his eyes burning into mine, but I say nothing back. I don't even know what to say, and it's not one of those times that I'm trying to avoid an answer. I just don't have one. I don't know what this means, but I can feel the weight of his words. This isn’t something a man like him confesses with ease. Maybe he has never said these words before to another person. But I can't allow myself to be distracted again by his pretty packaging, and forget about the blood that runs down his hands; the danger that lurks inside him. Although I must admit, the packaging is pretty amazing .

“I was taking you to bed so you would rest. I wasn't considering anything else, if that's what you thought,” he says as if he knows that playing the nice guy will make things that much more difficult for me.

Turning the faucet off, he grabs a dry towel for himself and one that he wraps around me. He then lifts me in his arms and carries me back to his bed.“Try to sleep this time, okay?” He places a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and all I can do is nod then bury my face against his chest. I’m doing my best not to cry again because I feel him breaking every defensive line I have built, one by one, entrapping me in a spell that will eventually destroy me.

It's past noon when I wake up. I've heard Set's phone vibrate a couple of times, and I think he even sent out a few texts, without even getting out of bed. I know he's not sleeping. He hasn't been sleeping for a long time, judging by the way his fingers have played in my hair all morning. I just didn't want to get up. I've been hiding from reality, way too tired and confused to face it. And just when I think things couldn’t get worse, I open my eyes to gaze directly at the black ink covering his chest.

Fuck my life! The drawings move so hypnotically as he breathes that all I want to do is join my lips to his inked skin and taste it.

I know this makes no sense; drawings have no taste, but I bet his would.

However, licking his chest first thing as I wake up is out of the question, especially since nothing has really changed. I'm still his because I have no way out—I chose to spare Nick's life, and in the end, Set still made me kill him. It's only my pussy that doesn't seem to get the message.

Set noticed by now that I'm awake. Strangely enough, he’s acting much more cautiously than last night. “I haven’t stayed in bed so late for an eternity.” He stretches a lazy arm over my shoulder while he gazes straight at me like he's considering what to do next based on my reactions.

“You did tell me to rest,” I whisper back, feeling myself blush for no reason.

Get a grip on yourself, Serena. I try to get myself together, but it seems almost impossible while looking at those thick lips of his that seem to be calling out for me. This reminds me—he hasn’t kissed me since last night, and he doesn't do it either in the following moments.I know it's wrong, but that saddens me in a way I don't want to admit, especially since I only let him know I was awake two nanoseconds ago.

“I told you to rest last night because you were overthinking things. And now, I'm telling you; you need coffee.” He pushes the sheets aside like he's trying to find the courage to get out of bed.

Good luck finding it, because he definitely lost the towel, and he's now completely naked beside me, and completely awake .

I'm blushing again while doing my best not to look at him while he's pulling up his boxers. But it's not something you can look away from, even if I'm trying to seem fascinated by the 3D architecture of the ceiling. Not that I hadn't looked at it enough last night…

I'm such a big child, yet it's not something I can help myself from. I feel dominated by him in every sense of the word, and that makes me incapable of handling my reactions—good or bad.

“Are you coming?” he asks right when he's about to go through the door.

“Yes, right behind you,” I murmur, still surprised that he's not exactly his usual self. He's neither angry nor flirtatious. He just seems calm, and that unsettles me even more than when he’s a ticking time bomb.

Picking up my robe from the floor, since my nightie is completely destroyed from him tearing it from my body last night, I put it on before following him into the kitchen.He's already turned on the automatic espresso machine, and selected a coffee for me, just the way I like it. Of course, he knows this too. He never lets a detail escape him. And he definitely doesn't let the way I stare at him escape him. It's not my fault he doesn't have more clothes on and that he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen in just his boxers. He doesn't seem so menacing right now, it’s like he's more human. And that’s really funny considering he looks like a fucking god with his sun-kissed skin covered in all those dark tattoos.

I do hope I'm not drooling, but my pussy twitches from the sight only to be reminded of the damage he did last night. I'm still sore, but very much turned on, and his practiced indifference is aimed to get the worst out of me.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, putting the café latte in front of me on the counter.

Why, will you also cook for me? Shirtless? Of course, I'm not actually asking him this. It was just a thought that randomly ran through my mind. It seems a lot of stupid thoughts are running through my mind this morning.

“Not really right now, maybe later,” I answer, taking a sip of my coffee. The damn thing is delicious.

“We'll go downstairs to the restaurant, and get something a little later.” He turns to face me and takes the seat opposite mine at the kitchen island.

“I don't really feel like dressing up,” I answer, trying not to offend him since he probably had plans for us.

But he doesn't seem to mind, and his mood suddenly picks up. “Oh, you want to stay in?” he asks, and I think I see a grin flickering on his lips.

I need to clarify things immediately before we end up back in the bedroom. Not that I’d mind right now, but I should mind. It's too complicated. I'm too complicated. “It's just that the restaurant is too… how should I put this? Everyone is looking at us, and I just want to feel normal. Tomorrow is a big day, and I don't want to add extra pressure to things.” I do my best to explain what I want, even if I don't know exactly what that is.

Yet he seems to know. It’s like he always has the right answer. “So, let me get this straight. You don’t want anything fancy like a high-class restaurant. Do you want me to take you out in Vegas? Street food, maybe a walk around the Strip. Like a normal date?”

“A date?” I stutter. “I wouldn't call it a date.” My eyes widen as he just figured out exactly what I would like to do tonight, even if I had no real clue myself before a minute ago. Okay, exactly what I would like to do except for the date part—that I could have never thought of.

He takes a second to think about something. “I had a thing to do tonight for a couple of hours, but I guess I can send someone else.”

“What, killing more people?” I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.

And he doesn't seem to take it too well. “Watch that mouth, or it's your pussy that's going to pay for it!” He warns, but unlike what I'm used to from him, it's in a playful tone. “I never go and kill people myself. I have henchmen who do that for me.”

I move from one foot to the other at the mention of trouble and the threat just aimed for the treacherous thing between my thighs. Why did that suddenly make me wet? And why could I overlook so easily that he doesn't seem to give a fuck about the people he kills, and focus only on the needs of my body?

Ugh, I just want to feel normal for a night. That's not too much to ask, is it?

“Listen, Set, I don't know how to handle this,” I admit, without any clue of what I'm supposed to do next.

He rises from his chair and starts walking toward me. “You don't have to handle anything. I'm in control. You just have to trust me.”

But what he's asking seems impossible after everything that happened. “How can I trust you when you tricked me into this deal?”

“I haven't tricked you. It was your choice. I just couldn't let Nick live after what he did to you. No one betrays what's mine. No one hurts what's mine,” he grunts, letting his fingers trail the side of my cheek where Nick hit me. His touch is gentle and addictive, his eyes burning into mine while my own body starts to melt like a damn ice cream exposed to the desert sun. But as I said, Set is acting weird this morning, and instead of lifting me onto the counter and ripping the robe off my body, he just rearranges the collar. He doesn’t even give me a damn kiss, and that’s beginning to drive me insane.

Have I fucked him into being a good guy? Nah, he's just playing pretend. But he's doing it so well that he's making me question myself.

“Now, I'm going to leave for an hour or so to solve things around here,” he says, setting a little distance between us, “then I'll be back to take you on that date you said you didn't want, but you do want.” He throws me a knowing smile, like he just exposed another one of my secrets, then heads back to his bedroom to get dressed.

A date. He's taking me on a date.