Nemesync (Soulfound #1)

Chapter 17 – Elijah

17

ELIJAH

S weet and depraved, and so much trouble behind those eyes. My favorite trouble.

Her fingers found their way on my chest, making me feel like I could breathe again at her touch.

10 .

Amber again.

What the fuck was happening to me?

I grabbed the knife and put the handle between her legs, slowly pushing it to make her feel the madness I harbor for her.

“Let’s put this knife to use at least.”

She let out a little moan at the contact, such a sweet and greedy woman. Of course, it would sound that attractive. Fuck , I’m so turned on, I didn’t even touch her yet.

I closed the remaining distance between us. My lips hovered just inches from hers, enough for me to lose my mind over the breathing sounds she was making.

“You smell dangerous,” she uttered between heavy breaths.

“What do I smell like, Milaya? ”

“Like mindless sex.”

If I taste her, I’ll never stop myself from consuming her entirely. Just one taste, and it’ll be the end of the world as she knew it before me.

She should be scared, but no—she wanted me to take that step and never look back.

Zanae Dellé is a fucking drug in my system, unhealthy for my existence, but fuck, I can’t escape her gaze and I don’t want to.

I don’t want to escape her .

Zanae

Our eyes begged each other to abandon this twisted game and succumb to temptation. Pleading to stop this fire that courses through our entire beings whenever we breathe the same air. Demanding to touch each other as if our own lives hinged on it.

Our souls implored us to pleasure each other in the most perverted and depraved way possible, and I felt it deeply.

A heartbeat passed—a suspended moment of urgency and anticipation, then he whispered against my mouth, “Fuck it.”

Two words, one breath, and pure chaos.

My breath was cut. My eyes closed. And his lips finally claimed mine, hungrily, furiously.

He claimed my mouth as if it had always belonged to him. He claimed me as if I had always belonged to him.

The kiss held a blend of passion and frustration, a culmination of all that tension and that will to kill each other but so much relief at the same time.

The taste of rebellion and desire on his tongue was addictive. His arms encircled me, pulling me closer, as if trying to destroy with our own bodies the abyss that hatred and destiny had carved between us. His hand was still pushing the knife between my thighs, making me lose my mind because of the friction.

This kiss felt like fire in my veins.

It felt like his mouth knew mine forever.

I grabbed onto his broad shoulder, and he released the knife to the ground.

His lips danced with mine, so full of possessiveness and hunger. I’ve never been kissed like this, as if I had control over him, as if I were what set him in motion.

His mouth swayed over mine, and the hands that, just moments ago, held a knife to my throat, now caressed my jaw and then my neck. We were aflame, our bodies burning.

He kissed me exactly how I imagined it.

Deadly, and possessive.

I clutched his neck when he positioned me on the kitchen counter; the cold marble was my only source of coolness in a moment where I felt literally on fire.

I ceased to breathe, but I was completely okay with that.

With one hand, he gripped my hips, while the other remained on my neck.

His forehead rested against mine as we separated to breathe. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for wanting you,” he murmured, his voice husky.

I looked up at him, biting my lower lip as if trying to contain the rush of heat flooding through my face and body. His chest rose and fell slowly, and mine followed the same rhythm.

My body absorbed his presence, every inch of me acutely aware of the entirety of him. “I’m not the one struggling with inner demons here.”

He smirked his hands moving up and down my thighs. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? The way I devoured your pretty mouth, the way I rubbed your sweet and needy cunt so hard. Your body responded to me more than you’d like to admit, Zanae.”

Desire and sin trailed down my stomach.

He was right and my body betrayed me.

“Maybe you just can’t resist what you hate, Volkov.”

He leaned in, his lips touching mine again, slowly tracing the lines and curves of my mouth, as if he wanted to preserve that feeling forever on his. “Maybe,” he whispered, before kissing me again. He pulled back slightly, our faces still inches apart. “I think you’re the one struggling to resist me, Milaya ,” he said.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

His thumb traced the curves on my mouth gently. “I know you want this to be a promise. You wanted to get under my skin. But look at you, all flushed, waiting for me to fuck you on my kitchen counter like my own pretty fucktoy, begging me to ruin you with those eyes. I win Miss Dellé,” he replied, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

Fuck him.

I got back on my feet, put my hand on his cheek, looking at the smudges of my red lipstick spread across his lips and a bit on his jaw.

Why did I like it so much? Seeing my marks on him, as if I held the power to leave an indelible trace on his skin.

A chuckle escaped my lips, as I leaned down to kiss his neck one last time, leaving another mark for pure satisfaction, just where I could feel his pulse.

A rapid thud quickened beneath my lips.

“I think you’re lying to yourself Volkov, I’m not just under your skin; I’m in it now.”

I won tonight.

Was the kiss good? Phenomenal.

Do I still hate him? Even more.

Would I do that again? In a fucking heartbeat.

I’ve always been like this; craving something I can’t have and then loving the pain that comes from it.

I wanted to know him entirely, to be the one bringing this man to his knees and be the only one to understand what he hides behind this reputation he has.

I couldn’t fucking sleep.

I couldn’t stop thinking about this kiss, the way his lips were so commanding, angry, demanding of me. The way his hands craved me. The type of sensation that sends little sparkles all over your body and makes your blood boil from desire.

I needed air, and so I just walked out of my room, to stay a bit on the balcony. But in a second, I felt it, the flames and the fucking tension again.

He was behind me; I felt his presence.

He did not speak at first, he just stood there, breathing heavily on my neck, while I stopped feeling the air in my lungs.

His large hand is on my throat and delicately slides on my shoulder, grazing the skin along the curvature of my breast, agonizingly slow.

My nipples hardened at the touch of his skin, and he felt it.

That control he had over my body. That bliss exploded throughout my entire body as if it was the first time it awakened and felt something other than pain and sorrow.

Only he can do that.

I can hear his gasps accelerate; I can almost see his proud smile on my skin.

No. I can’t succumb.

But I’m dying to let him touch me.

I’m dying to see how my body is gonna betray me.

His long fingers caress my abdomen, and eventually slide inside my shorts. Forbidden.

He’s touching the band of my thong; and I can’t breathe from fear of breaking this moment.

No noise other than my choppy breathing and the little noises coming out of my mouth. I lose myself in the dizzying and intoxicating effect of his presence—a closeness that feels just like the first heady rush of a drug.

Euphoria, drowning out everything else.

He approaches his mouth from my ear, kissing the back of my neck, savoring every little goosebump he felt under his lips, and says in a low whisper, “Do me a favor Zanae, allow me to show you the control I have over every part of you.” His voice tickles my neck, and he adds, “You can deny it all you want, Milaya , but your body is my own little dirty playground, and he knows it.”

Fuck , why am I so hypnotized by his touch?

His other hand on my jaw, gently brushes my cheek, and suddenly the hand that was on the lower part of my stomach descends even further and he starts stroking my clit with his long fingers, taking his time, appreciating every little gasp coming out of my mouth.

He’s studying my reactions, curiously examining the way my body felt under his touch. And the answer is that it felt weak, on the brink of surrender. And I hate it.

“My own woman, to pleasure, to ruin, to mark,” he adds, slowly kissing my neck, stealing the air out of my lungs with each brush of his lips on my skin, branding each centimeter as his own territory.

“A slut for me. For me only.”

Cruel. Invasive. Feral .

The friction makes me escape a small urgent cry. The hand he had on my mouth takes advantage of my surprise as he lets his thumb rest in between my lips, like he’s gripping on my mouth for support.

I couldn’t breathe easily because of that. And he doesn’t care at all. But the worst part is that I don’t care either. I’m battling to keep my eyes open but when I lower them and catch his big hand disappearing in my shorts, I can’t restrain myself and begin to lose every shred of logical reasoning.

I had no control over anything, neither my heart nor my mind.

Head empty, just us alone in this corridor, his bare chest on my back, his erection teasing me from behind. Him and I in the dark, his hand touching me, and his breath caressing my neck.

Hate and desire.

And a twisted attraction. A forbidden fascination with each other’s bodies.

His fingers start tickling all along my folds and stop on my clit again, but this time he’s not studying my reactions anymore. He starts playing with it. It felt so good and so wrong, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out small noisy breaths muffled between his fingers that kept my mouth parted.

His husky voice brings me back to the present moment, “Miss Dellé, are you dripping wet, all for me?”

Am I? I think I am.

Without warning his finger sinks into me.

A cry of surprise escapes me.

It was brutal, intense, almost natural.

I can’t feel air, I can’t feel anything. It’s just a blur of raw sensations. I’m wandering into a ghostly realm where oxygen is non-existent.

My pulse is the only thing I can hear.

The pain, the brutality of his finger impaling me feels surreal.

A hand presses hard against my throat, my pulse jolting me back to the moment.

“Breathe, Zanae,” the deep voice whispers against the shell of my ear persuading me back from the brink of suffocation.

And my body relaxed, air began to fill my lungs again.

“Told you I’d leave you gasping for more. Inhale the pain that only I can give you, now,” he adds, starting to push it in and out, and my head starts to fall back.

I find myself eyes closed on his shoulder, feeling his erection growing behind me. He continues his cruel play, his finger thrusting into me without giving me a break to understand what’s happening.

I can’t think of anything else than us, here, now, and then he suddenly adds a second finger.

I can’t breathe again.

The pleasure is agonizing, poisoning my blood with a mingled torment.

Everything felt sinfully wrong.

“I’m not even fucking you and you’re already soaking and suffocating my fingers. Imagine what my cock will do to you, Zanae.”

I couldn’t even listen to him anymore.

All I could hear was the erotic sound his fingers made going in and out of me. Slippery, wet sounds mixing with my breathy moans and desperate gasps.

Hard, urgent and deep. So brutal that my tits bounced with each thrust, and my moans quivered under the pressure and intensity.

The pace was getting faster and faster and, without realizing it, my hand got back on his neck. I stood up, clinging to his throat as he continued to thrust harder.

“You’re losing control and your pussy is begging me for more. Should I give you more?”

His voice is so low, it feels like a dream, or a nightmare, I don’t even know anymore. It feels surreal, but nothing ever felt this real at the same time.

My eyes roll back as I feel waves of pleasure running through my body, my knees let go and my body tenses, contractions everywhere on the lower part, and then, finally, relief .

Stars everywhere around me and inside me, illuminating every inch of my body. I’m gone.

A small whimper comes out of my lips, and I bite it down. My breath cuts, I’m suffocating, burning, intoxicated by him.

I was going to fall but he caught me and turned me over.

He pulls his hand out of my shorts and licks his fingers clean in front of my face, one by one, without ever looking away from my eyes.

“You taste like my own fucking inferno, Zanae.”

I felt no more energy in me, my face warm, my mind blank.

I can’t believe what just happened.

He raises me in his arms and takes me to my room. Not a single word came out of his mouth, but the silence was comfortable in his arms. My face pressed against his bare chest, leaving me to focus only on the rapid beat of his heart.

When we arrive, he leaves me on the bed, leaning on his arms on both sides of me, imprisoning me. “This is only the beginning, Milaya , I can’t wait to find out how to make your body react in every conceivable and dirty way possible.”

His mouth travels down my stomach, as he lifts my shirt, and stops at its edge. He plants a kiss there, sucks the skin, and leaves a purplish mark on the zone. A hickey .

He looks up at me before adding. “And don’t forget, I tasted it, so it’s fucking mine now.”

And then he goes away, leaving me lost, not understanding what happened. I fall asleep asking myself if I dreamed of it, or if it really happened.

The next morning came, and Nikolai was already there, “Look at that, the little sleeping beauty is finally awake.”

I looked at him dizzy from my sleep. “Nikolai I’m really in a bad mood today.”

“Oh, why would you be?” The Devil asked, sitting on the sofa.

Maybe because you finger-fucked me when I was just going to take some fresh air this night and left me in my room to sleep with no fucking explanation or whatsoever?

I didn’t even respond to him and looked at Nikolai again who’s about to say something.

“Tonight, we have a party at the club. You’re going to come with us, Elijah and I will be there. It’s just a party not a mission. But it’s better for your safety to be with us and not just here alone.”

I smiled at him playfully, “Didn’t know I could have fun during work but okay, is there any dress code for tonight?”

Elijah met my gaze, and asked, “Do you have anything to wear there or?”

“No but I’m going to go shopping today, just give me the dress code.”

Nikolai rose, handing me a cup of coffee. “Black. Elijah’s a bit grumpy lately, so he figured black might improve his mood.”

Of course .

I grinned into my mug, meeting the psycho’s gaze. “Not surprised. I’ll grab my car and find something.”

I left them hanging and went to do some shopping.

Of course, there is a guard following me, secretly, as if I didn’t know. It’s just ridiculous at this point. I knew very well that it was the Devil who had sent him to make sure I was safe.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him even after browsing so many shops.

Black .

Indeed he would choose black for the dress code.

He’s always wearing this color.

I know it’s not healthy, but he can’t just win like he did yesterday. First, he cheated, I didn’t think he would do what he did. Tonight, he’ll learn to always let me win.

I don’t play games If it’s not for the victory.

And why is my body so okay with him being this close? I hate when men try to grab my neck or just touch me. But when it was his hands, it felt normal. With him, my body and mind didn’t tense up in defense and fear, it relaxed and welcomed him.

I was nothing but normal, so were my reactions.

So why was it okay only when Elijah Volkov was the one touching me?

Entering the penthouse, the memories of yesterday’s events came pouring back to me so vividly as I passed through the corridor.

He touched me. He pleasured me. And I loved it.

What’s wrong with me?

I get ready and put on that beautiful black backless dress. I love how it reveals the moon tattoo I got from Luna.

I stop in front of the mirror and take a moment to take in everything that’s happening in my life. My hand drifted to my stomach, where I’ll forever see the shadow of a hand creeping in. My fingers followed the memories I had from that day.

When my eyes met my reflection, it felt more real than ever. Who are you?

I would’ve never thought I’d get ready to party in a Zennites club with the Pakhan and the Don. I just feel like things are changing, priorities are switching, and I can’t tell yet if it’s good or not.

When I step out of the room, Elijah sips his vodka and looks at me, with a cold gaze but something betrays him, his jaw moves, and I know how to recognize a reaction when I see one.

Control yourself as much as you want but it’s my ultimate talent Elijah, I’m learning to read through you.

“Didn’t know black was your color Zanae, I thought red suited you more.”

I look back at him, “You want to see me in red Elijah?”

“I want to see you suffer, Zanae.”

“I dare you.”

He’s looking at me like I’m not strong enough, like I’m a fragile little thing. “Breaking you yesterday was so satisfying; but making you lose control was even more exhilarating.”

His little attitude makes me want to destroy his face with a fucking hammer and take this little smile of him, so arrogant with so much disdain. “You’re the one who got under my panties yesterday Volkov, not me, you lost control. I fucking didn’t.”

He smirks, leans toward me and in a whispery voice he says, “But you’re the one who came all over my fingers Milaya . I can still taste you on my tongue. So sweet and fiery.”

I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to kill him. I reach behind me and pull out the knife I always keep with me. I lunged at him to hurt him. But this bastard intercepts me with ease.

He overpowers me, and I hate it.

A cruel smile plays on his lips as he disarms me, the cold metal pressed against my skin now.

It wasn’t the plan.

“Trying to kill me, I see , ” he chuckles, the sound dripping with fucking condescension. “Are you trying to seduce me tonight?”

I meet his gaze with the same arrogance he has. “I won’t let you manipulate me, Elijah. I don’t want to be another pawn in your fucking stupid game. You won’t make me suffer or anything. Stop this thing right now, and don’t you dare look at me like you own me.”

His low chuckle rings between us.

“You’re not just a pawn, Zanae. I do own you, you’re my pawn and only mine. It’s intoxicating to watch you love it and hate it at the same time. I’m going to adore damaging you.”

Frustration and anger course through my veins like burning lava, but he’s right, I hate being that attracted to him, wanting him to reveal what I can’t see yet, I hate it so much.

It’s frustrating that he’s making me experience emotions once more. It annoys me that my heart quickens when he’s nearby, and I hate that I’m finding it exciting to play with him. I fucking detest being in this situation; emotions aren’t my strong suit.

I can only feed my inner demons with anger and resentment, not these sensations.

They will not like them.

He tightens his grip, and I shoot back with a smile, “You’ll never destroy me, I’m already wrecked, Volkov, find yourself another occupation.”

I can’t deny the truth, the man I despise the most might just be the one I desire the most too.

Suddenly, he pins me against the wall, the cold blade pressing against my heart, “Your fucking heart,” he whispers, “It beats with a rhythm I could play with, make it dance to my own music. You might even enjoy the melody. Are you scared of that, Milaya ? Is it because you felt it beat faster yesterday when you came all over my fingers and moaned my name?”

Please end it, push the blade further.

No Z, you’re strong, don’t listen to them.

“Touch my heart, Elijah, and I’ll make sure yours stops faster than you can imagine.”

His eyes darken as he continued, “You’ll be surprised to learn that mine has stopped beating years ago. But yours...” He pushes the knife further against my skin, drawing a bead of blood. The voices love it . “Yours still dance to the rhythm of life. Such a vibrant red, don’t you think?”

I’m fascinated by the situation, it’s not just the pain, it’s the tension in the room, everything feels heavy.

“I told you. Red suits you better,” he remarks, a twisted admiration in his tone. “It’s a color I could get used to, I fucking love it on you.”

He’s thriving because he thinks he overpowers me.

But he’s wrong, he’s totally wrong.

I see through his eyes, he’s not just enjoying the scene, he’s enjoying being close to me. And he hates it as much as I do.

“I suggest you be careful with your little provocation Volkov; I may strangle you and get rid of your little smirk.”

He smirks, a perverse pleasure dancing in his green haunting eyes. “Mind yourself, you might find that your little threats about strangling me only make me hard. Didn’t know you were this kinky, Zanae.”

I hate those stupid nicknames.

I hate him.

I hate this.

I can’t stand that man, and I can’t stand him to the point that I want to taste his lips again.

Again ? Why am I such a mess?

Everything. You’re wrong, and dirty.

I need him to continue talking or do anything to shut them up.

He inches closer with a sinister grin, lowering his head to my wounded chest, provocatively tasting a droplet of blood before sealing it with a kiss.

Not this kind of ‘anything’…

I pushed him off, surprised and frustrated, yelling, “Back off, you lunatic.”

Wiping the drops from the corner of his lip with his thumb, he smirks, unfazed and advances once more, “No chance. I even think we should pick up where we left off last night, right here, right now.”

“Absolutely not!”

A dark and sinister grin spread across his face, like a demon savoring its next torment. Me . “I will mark every inch of skin on your body Zanae, and I’ll do the same to your soul. You know why?”

I’m speechless.

“Because you need discipline. That fucking mouth of yours and attitude needs to be composed.”

“You’re just completely unhinged Elijah.”

He smiled at me and backed up, “I am, exactly. The more you know. Now come here, we have a party to attend, Miss Dellé.”

The car journey was silent.

Neither he nor I dared to talk. But the tension was so thick between us, that I had a hard time breathing.

He literally made me bleed.

Fucking bastard.

I may take my revenge tonight more than I thought.

The venue was incredible tonight. A lot of people were there, and I quickly spotted Nikolai who came to us and saw my wound on my chest. He looked at Elijah then at me, and just shook his head.

I went to the bar and had a glass of whisky. There were a lot of people for this event, it seems like a lot of them carried guns too. I recognized some faces, some men I had dinner with when I helped my father.

Was it like an underground party?

A man at the end of the room appeared to be the perfect target to play this twisted game that my sweet nemesis initiated. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Elijah, it’s that his possessiveness is maddening. I knew that using that aspect of him was the only way to win.

A shy smile, a flick of my hair, and the man was at my side.

“You’re looking fantastic tonight, Cara , never saw you here before,” he teased with a thick Italian accent.

It took every ounce of energy in me to not punch this man away when his hand rested on my back.

“Thank you,” I answered coldly, as I watched the Devil himself lose his composure with that spark of jealousy burning in his eyes as he spotted the man’s hand on my lower back.

Jackpot .

I continued to push it further and laugh at everything the man said. He spoke Italian, and I didn’t understand much, but I know he was from the clan Nikolai supervised in New York.

He told me about their alliance and how much power he gained since the creation of the Zennites in Vesper.

He didn’t know who I was, so he was just trying to impress me, he even showed me his gun.

Poor guy, mine was even bigger.

My favorite attraction made his way toward us, his gaze dark and cold.

I guess I may win tonight, after all.

“Zanae,” Elijah murmured, “I suggest you stop this before it takes a turn you won’t appreciate.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Mister Volkov. I’ll do as I please, and now I want to talk to this man, so leave me alone.”

His expression darkened, and I could sense the warnings in his eyes, danger hiding within those green irises. “Careful, my Little Nightmare. You’re not going to like the consequences of your actions.”

Ignoring his words, I sent him a flying kiss and just turned around, continuing to play my part. I’m just enjoying seeing him on the edge more than I thought. Unbeknownst to me, he took another step forward, bringing with him the man I’ve been toying with for the past hour.

Elijah stood tall in front of me, eyes pitch black, unfazed, the man at his mercy, literally not understanding what’s happening. “You wanted my attention, Zanae? Now you have it.”

Before I could even react, a gunshot echoed through the room, and the man fell lifeless to the floor.

Blood everywhere, sliding under my shoes, on my dress, arms, everywhere .

I can almost feel it on my soul.

Drenched. Brain and blood.

The Devil’s voice carried that horror as he leaned in and whispered, “Clear enough for you Milaya ?”

With that, he turned away and left the event, leaving me to deal with the consequences as he promised me.

I stood in front of this body, shocked, and lost.

The metallic scent of blood intoxicated me. I kneeled and touched his cheek like I could give him back his life.

A glance at my hands, and they’re stained with his blood. I feel some on my face too, and for a moment, I can’t hear or see anything else.

What just happened?

I can’t fucking move.

My hands tremble but I try to wipe the blood from my face, only managing to smear it further.

I can’t breathe.

I see blood everywhere again.

He’s still dead, he’s still fucking dead at my feet, and Elijah is winning.

He won this time.

Memories came back to me.

Blood , always blood.

I feel someone shaking my shoulders.

“Little Z, go outside. This is not the first-time things get messy with Elijah. You need some air,” Niko’s voice, reassuring and calm, pulls me away from my head and brings me back to reality.

A dead body is at my feet.

Angry and bewildered, I storm out realizing what just happened, and the night air does little to ease the anger and frustration within me, in fact I just feel more furious about that fucking crazy psychopath.

Finding him in an office upstairs, I burst in.

“What the hell was that, Elijah? You’ve gone too far this time! Are you fucking crazy? OF COURSE, YOU ARE! WHAT WAS I THINKING!”

Elijah, seated behind his desk, looked at me, satisfaction burning in his gaze, “I did warn you, Zanae. Consequences have a way of catching up, but now you understand that you can’t win against me.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” my voice dropped to a frustrated murmur, “Why— why did you kill him, Elijah?”

He leaned forward, his voice full of arrogance, but so low, like a velvet caress on my skin, “I told you to be careful, you didn’t listen. You enjoyed making me react, there, you have your fucking reaction.”

“I’m not your fucking toy, I’m not your damn property you cannot just kill everyone who talks to me!”

He smirked proudly, “Yet, that’s exactly what I’m doing, and not breaking a sweat. I told you yesterday, I tasted you so you’re fucking mine and even if I didn’t, you’ll still be fucking mine. Call it ownership, insanity—whatever you want, I call it reality.”

His . He wanted me to be his.

“You just want me to be yours in suffering Elijah? Is this all about? Being the one and only to fucking destroy me even more?”

He chuckled darkly, as if it was obvious. “It’s about being in control of your body and heart, being the one and only to make it burst from pleasure and anger.”

“You want me to explode because I fucking want you to touch me?”

“I want you to crave me as much as I fucking do, Zanae. Because I hate being the only one dying to touch you.”

“THEN, FUCKING MAKE ME!!”

Our eyes locked, Elijah, recognizing a shift in my breathing, tilted his head toward me, looked at my lips and stopped talking.

His eyes dared me to break this first, and mine challenged him to do the same. Gently, almost imperceptibly, an unspoken understanding passed through us.

He was so close that I could tell how many lashes he had from the proximity. The room was just filled with our heavy breathing, his anger and my frustration.

And I stepped closer, and the only thing I saw was his mouth, I didn’t think about anything else. My heart beat so fast in my chest that I could hear it and I’m sure he could hear it too.

He didn’t answer and just yanked off his tie, then rolled up his sleeves, his eyes blazing with fury and longing, daring me to challenge him even more.

He didn’t even try to answer my question, instead, he just undid the buttons of his shirt and loosened his belt with one of his hands.

We were almost touching from this proximity.

“Lift up your dress,” he spat out, his tone rough and so low, his lips brushing against mine without ever touching them.

“Why— why would I do that?” I asked, still lost in those eyes.

He closed the nonexistent distance between us, his movements aggressive, almost demanding. Then he spoke with a sense of urgency. “We are going to talk.”

But before I could protest, his lips crashed onto mine, a bruising kiss filled with anger and passion. In that moment, words became unnecessary, drowned out by the need to have him impossibly closer.

I responded to his kiss with defiance and desire. I allowed myself to be swept away by this murderous attraction raging within me. It was insane, tumultuous, fueled by the dangerous need to outdo each other that consumed us both.

He lifted me against the wall, our bodies pressed together, my heart threatening to explode.

I realized that between Elijah and I, there was only a blurry line between pain and pleasure.

Admiration and disdain.

Trust and doubt.

And that blurry line was disappearing.

His hands found my hips urgently and pulled me closer to him.

I didn’t grasp what was happening, I just couldn’t control anything in me, I was sinking into him, drowning into him, I just wanted it all, I wanted all he could ever offer to me. My body wasn’t mine anymore. When his hands appeared between my thighs, I understood that there was no going back after this.

“I’m gonna be clear, flirting with someone in front of me wasn’t the smartest move. Never do this again, if you don’t want corpses to cover the ground you walk on,” he whispered against my mouth.

I couldn’t stop myself from shutting down my traitor of a body who was responding way too easily to him. “Why should I listen to you?”

He grabbed my cheeks firmly, kissing my neck hungrily before saying. “Because I say so.”

“I can’t stand you,” I tried to say, but he just ate my words.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he answered, “Then don’t. I’m gonna fuck this delicate cunt so hard you won’t be able to stand at all.”

God, this was wrong. Everything was wrong.

I couldn’t succumb, even if I was dying too.

His breath tickled my ear, hot and perfectly placed. “Didn’t know I had to kill a man for me to have the chance to kiss you again, I would’ve done it a lot more if I knew.”

His fingers were pressed against my core while he spoke and like a stupid horny girl, I just let it slide and moaned against his neck. “ Fuck… ”

He began massaging my clit through the fabric and I just lost my balance. He knew what he was doing to me, and it amused him to see me in that state because of him. “I knew I’ll love hearing you shut up and just come on my hand, but hearing it in my office is fucking spectacular.”

I looked up at him, dizzy from the sensation and the work his hand was doing under my dress, “You’re an asshole, Elijah.”

“Keep talking dirty to me,” he whispered against my neck, so proud of himself. And I hated it so much.

“I hate you so much—” I tried to say, but when he quickened the pace, my words were swallowed by a carnal and erotic ecstasy. “Oh, god!”

He nodded, kissing my neck, his fingers working me perfectly right, “That’s right, hate me while I make you feel this good.”

He kissed that sensitive spot behind my ear, slowly sucking the skin, even biting down my flesh. I knew this bastard was leaving another ownership mark on me, but I couldn’t think straight when I could feel his tongue licking the sensitive spot on my neck.

“Fuck, Elijah!” I breathed, way too lost in the lust that drove us insane.

His mouth found mine again, his eyes locking onto mine, that green forest ignited with fervency. When he finally pulled away from devouring my lips, he urged, “Admit it, you love it when I make you forget why you hate me.”

Three fucking fingers, three , and he never stopped thrusting in me, the rhythm was so perfect that I could feel myself loosing every ounce of self-respect I had before this.

His fingers curled inside me and that was enough for me to let it all go. “Come for me, Milaya . Now,” he ordered before kissing me angrily and a few seconds later I felt the pleasure coursing through me.

My body trembled as he caught me when he felt that I was about to fall. I just came on his hand AGAIN, in his office, after he killed a man in front of me. I knew I had problems but it’s more alarming than I thought.

He pushed his fingers in between my lips, without even asking. “Taste yourself, Zanae. Taste how addictive you are.”

And I just did it, I fucking obeyed, and sucked his fingers.

“Now, never fucking test my limits again, because I don’t have any when it comes to you.”

I finally realized what just happened and without wasting any time I stormed out of Elijah’s office, a storm of emotions slapped me immediately after this.

The door slammed behind me, leaving him alone. I rushed outside and took a taxi; I didn’t even have my car. Why would I do that and not think about the aftermath?

The wintry night air was not enough to calm down the heat that still lingered beneath my skin.

I couldn’t take away the memories of Elijah’s touch, the intensity of his kiss, his hands, his fingers and what they were doing to me, everything, and I couldn’t deny the fucking inexplicable pull he had on me.

My body betrayed my resolve, and responded to him with a hunger I didn’t even think I had in me.

He fucking hates you Zanae, why would you let him have you if he fucking hates you?

Am I insane? Is that why I like feeling pain?

He hated me. And I gave him my body.

He fucking hated me.

Why do I need him to do it again?

Maybe I was dirty, so sullied that nothing mattered anymore.

He was going to break me all over again, and I welcomed it like the masochist I am. Because I deserve pain. I need pain to cleanse me, to purge my sins.

And who better than Elijah to do it?

I felt the urge for retribution, to be chastised, to experience misery and pain, but why do I need it?

Because you killed her. You should be in pain.

“Stop… stop thinking, Zanae,” I whisper to myself.

The fucking guilt, it’s always here, it never goes away.

And look what I do to myself to punish me for things I think I provoked.

The touch of the Devil’s lips on my neck felt like heaven, it felt like a sinful ecstasy. And I’m completely fucked up, broken, utterly damaged, because when he touched me, I’ve never felt more alive.

I’m furious, angry at myself for succumbing to a desire that defies any logic. Angry at Elijah for awakening something within me that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

You’re death itself Zanae.

They won’t stop in my head.

They never stop when I try to feel .

When I arrived at the penthouse, I stared at my reflection for long minutes.

I have always been my own worst enemy.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” I desperately question my own image, looking back at me, begging me to stop the suffering, to stop the agony.

My mind became the draft of my own chaos; a reality where the man who despised me the most, pleasured me in his office after killing a man and the only thing I thought about was, what if I didn’t stop him?

A MAN IS DEAD BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO FEEL AGAIN.

They’re right, he died because I felt again, with the wrong person.

After sending a text to Nikolai to inform him that I went back home in a taxi, I went back to the parking lot, took my car and went to the only place I wanted to be in, to talk to the only person I wanted to.

I went to the cemetery.