Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Azrael
I take the stairs two at a time. The moment they left the office, I cleared my desk of every item on it.
Her face will haunt me forever, and I fucking deserve it.
Have I become him?
I throw open the bedroom door, and she rushes me, poking me in my chest. “What the hell was that?” she screeches.
My chest heaves at the tears streaking her face; when I expected her to crumble, she proved me wrong.
“Did you do that with other women?”
“Yes,” I say it in a composed manner, although I feel the opposite. “They were familiar with what to expect with me.”
“Did you share them with those men?” she sneers, pointing toward the door.
I drag my hand through my hair. “I imagine they sampled them after, yes.”
“Sampled?” Her blue eyes widen. “They’re not a fucking meal, Azrael! I’m not a meal.”
“You’d be the main course if you were.” I attempt to lighten the mood, but she blinks at me as if stunned.
“Are you planning on sharing me with them?”
How the fuck can she even think it? “Of course not,” I snap back.
“I didn’t want them to see me come. I’m pleased I didn’t.” she whispers, and I have an almighty urge to pull her against me and tell her I didn’t want her to, but I don’t want her to detest me for my selfish reasonings.
“I can’t do that again, Azrael.” She swallows hard, and I know she’s fighting the tears desperate to spill, and fuck, do I deserve them.
“I don’t want you to.” I tug her toward me and wrap my arms around her. “You can cry. I can take it.” I kiss her head, and when she falls, I catch her.
I always will.