God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1) by Rina Kent

He closes his eyes again. “Now, sleep.”

“But I don’t want to sleep.”

“Sleep or I fuck you. And it’s not going to be a gentle fuck. I will make you scream, then muffle your voice so no one hears.”

I gulp, but it’s not out of dread. My core clenches and pleasure pools between my thighs.

Deep inside this man lurks a cold-blooded monster that’s often luring him to the edge. He says I keep him from taking the fall.

Before me, he used to be an aimless monster.

Now, he’s my monster.

And that first unconventional encounter was how I was supposed to meet him.

I was too lethargic, too out of it to even consider anyone. I hated life and myself, and that event brought back my senses in a painful outburst.

My shrink would say I’m finding excuses. I say, I found myself through this devil.

Not all girls like the hero. I was fated to fall in love with the villain.

Because I know, I just know that he’ll put me ahead of everyone. Himself included.

So I grab his face and slam my lips to his. I’m not usually this forthcoming about sex or affection, mostly because I love when he takes what he wants.

It’s how we function.

But right now, I want to kiss him, to show him that even if I fight, I’ve never for once not wanted him.

I always have.

Always.

He grunts as he bites my lower lip in his mouth and then flips us over, a hand around my throat.

“I gave you a way out, but you went ahead and refused it. Now, you’re truly fucked, baby.”

“Who says I want a way out?” I grin.

“That’s my girl. Now, tell me what I want to hear.”

My palm meets his cheek. “I’m yours, my monster.”

“And I’m yours, little rabbit.”

And then he shows me just how much we belong to each other.





EPILOGUE - KILLIAN





TWO YEARS LATER





I’ve come to the realization that there are too many irritating people in my and Glyndon's life.

More specifically, people who think it’s such a great idea to steal her time from me.

My tolerance level concerning that is slowly but surely fading out, and I can’t be held responsible for the hell that will break loose when I reach my limit.

In fact, that limit was fully breached around two years ago, soon after we started our relationship, but I made the mistake of promising to see things from her perspective.

At that time, it was the only thing that would make her trust me enough to be with me. But now, I have to accept that she actually needs friends.

That she wants to be recognized for who she is.

That as much as I want to spend every waking moment buried deep inside her or just holding her in my arms, she needs something as blasphemous as going out with friends and colleagues and all the fucking charade.

But I understand.

Not really.

Not even fucking close.

However, I let her have those irritating things, mainly because she misses me and I like how proactive she gets when she misses me.

Like tonight.

I haven’t seen her for a day, and while that was nothing short of torture, I had something to plan.

Earlier, I told her to meet me at the top of the cliff, then I hid behind the tree.

And waited.

Glyn comes fifteen minutes early and kills the engine of her car near the road but doesn’t turn off her headlights.

My little rabbit walks straight to the cliff, her hips swaying gently. She’s wearing a denim jacket and a dress today—one that reaches the middle of her thighs and swishes with every move. She even put on red lipstick—my favorite fucking color.

Glyndon is the most beautiful woman on earth to me. Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of the difference she made in my life.

If it weren’t for her, I would’ve long since spiraled down a destructive, criminal path and I would’ve never opened up to my family and found some middle ground with them.

Gareth and I won’t get the Brothers of the Year award, and I’ll never be mushy with my dad, but we sit down and talk. We even went back to hunting. The only activity the three of us do together—despite Mom’s dislike of the hobby.

Glyndon stops not far from the cliff, looking around, probably searching for me. The air is gentle tonight—no wind or crashing of waves.

Her hair covers her face as she retrieves her phone. Soon after, my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s probably a text from her, asking if I’m here yet.

Instead of replying with words, I open the huge container I brought with me.

Soft yellow light slowly brightens the gloomy cliff as the fireflies swarm in the air.

Glyndon stares up and her phone is forgotten as she gets caught in a trance. I love it when she’s in awe, when her lips part and her eyes widen. It’s like when I’m pounding inside her and she can’t take it anymore but she still enjoys every second of it.

The yellow light forms a halo around her as I sneak up behind her. The moment she feels my breath on her neck, she startles and turns around so fast that she slips backward.

Blindingly, she clutches my chest with both hands, and her phone clutters to the ground.

“This scene is oddly similar to the first time we met,” I whisper.

“You scared me,” she breathes out, definitely not as frightened as back then.