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

I glare up at him. “You have no right to judge me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to get to know you better, like you did to me earlier.”

This bastard is escalating again. He didn’t like that I was asking questions, so he decided to go for the jugular to teach me a lesson.

Too bad for him, I’m not backing down.

“Couldn’t you just ask what my favorite color, band, and film are?”

“You don’t have a favorite color, since you wear all of them. Your favorite band is Nirvana since you have their songs in all your Instagram stories. Your favorite movie is Inception, per a painting you posted a year ago on your IG that was captioned, ‘Inspiration by my favorite film ever, Inception.’ You also love chocolate and cherry flavor ice cream—together—your paternal grandfather, and the shorts and tank top style. You have an inferiority complex due to your mother’s and brothers’ talent, which makes you look more and more uncomfortable in family pictures as time goes by. It probably started early on and accumulated over the years until it drove you to that cliff.”

My nails dig into his chest, wanting—no, needing—to inflict pain. “How…how the hell do you know all of that?”

“I’m good at observing and linking patterns.”

“A stalker, you mean.”

“If you prefer that label.” He wraps a hand around mine, pinning it on his chest. “You’re still shaking. Would you like me to drop the subject and let you go back to your safe cocoon like Little Miss Ostrich—”

“I didn’t want to kill myself.” I cut him off. “Yes, I’ve thought about it often, when the pain gets to be too much and I want it to just stop, but I still wouldn’t do it, because I’d regret it. I’d feel shitty for putting my family and friends through that, and maybe it wouldn’t work. What if the pain doesn’t stop, after all? What if it becomes tenfold worse?”

“You won’t feel anything postmortem.”

I snort, actually feeling light for talking to a heartless monster about it instead of someone who’d be hurt by my words. “Is that your idea of consolation?”

“I don’t know how to do that, but here’s what I do know.” He strokes my hand that’s beneath his. “I’ll make sure you never have those thoughts again.”

“Says the one who asked me to throw myself off a cliff so he could take a picture of my fall.”

“But you didn’t. As you said, you don’t want to kill yourself, and I believe you.”

My lips part. He…what?

Why would he believe me? Even I don’t believe myself sometimes. There’s an unreliable narrator in my head who keeps flinging me in all directions.

Forget it.

I’m simply not getting trapped in the web Killian is spinning.

Trying to remain nonchalant, I remove my hand from his hold. “Can you let me finish the initiation now?”

He taps a finger against his thigh. “Why are you so interested in joining our club?”

“Isn’t that where all the cool kids go?”

“Nice try, but no, it obviously isn’t your scene.”

“Because I’m a girl?”

“And a nerd and a scaredy-cat and an introvert. You name it.”

“I…can change.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would you change? You’re fine the way you are.”

My breath gets caught at the back of my throat. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it as a compliment, which is why it sounds even more like a compliment. Dammit.

The effect he has on me isn’t funny anymore.

“I just want to join the club and add more fun to my life.”

“I’ll be all the fun you need.”

“Arrogant prick.”

“Heard worse.”

“Come on, let me join.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so. Besides…” He shoves me against the tree and his arms cage me in from both sides. “You owe me one for being nice just now.”

His hand wraps around my waist and he pushes his erection against my stomach. The air crackles with tension as his cock slides up and down the sensitive flesh of my mound.

Clothes separate us, but I feel every stroke to the deepest part of me.

“You…said you’d give me time.” I choke on the word, not able to recognize my voice from the thickness of it.

“And I will. This has nothing to do with that.” He pulls down my top’s strap and it reveals the lace of my bra.

“Mmm. Red. Were you thinking of me when you covered these tits with my favorite color? Did you touch yourself in front of the mirror and come with my name on your lips.”

“N-no…” My shaky fingers slap against his chest, so utterly weak. “And how does this have nothing to do with it when you’re obviously touching me?”

“Never said I wouldn’t. I just said I wouldn’t take your virginity—for now.” He pulls down the other strap and glides his fingers against my bra until he finds the tips of my breasts. “Look at these little nipples being all hard before I’ve even touched them.”

He yanks down the bra to my stomach and I briefly close my eyes as my breasts bounce free. My nipples ache with want, hard and throbbing.