God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1) by Rina Kent
“How did you know that? Pretty sure I didn’t post it on IG.”
“But you had your IUD insertion at the hospital I intern in. I have access to records.”
“Ever heard of patience privacy?”
“Yeah. The professors bitch about it all the time.”
“And you still breached it. That’s illegal, you know.”
“Never stopped me before.”
“Then…how about STDs, aren’t you like Mr. Manwhore or something?”
“No, Miss Ex-Virgin. I am not a manwhore. In fact, I didn’t have sex the past two months and I’m clean. I always use condoms.”
“Not with me.”
“Not with you,” I repeat. “How else would I have felt your blood on my cock?”
“Would you stop talking like a creep?”
“A hot creep.”
“A creep is a creep.” She clears her throat. “I can’t believe you were celibate for two whole months.”
“Miracles happen.”
“Why?”
“Because sex started to get dull and I would rather not be bored to death.”
“I find that hard to believe, considering your persistence of fucking me.”
“You’re different.”
I can feel the moment her heartbeat quickens against my chest even as her face remains the same.
New resolution—always be in a position to feel her pulse, because that beautiful fucker never lies.
Unlike her.
“Is that why you’re giving me time out? Because I’m different?”
“I told you, I can be nice.”
She snorts. “You should really stop calling your down version nice when it’s merely a calm phase.”
“Down version?”
“You have those moments where you’re slightly amicable, but they’re often drowned out by your devil side.”
“Because you provoke it.”
“So it’s my fault that your nature is devilish.”
“No. But you can bring out my nice side if you choose to. It’d take effort since it doesn’t come naturally to me, but it can be done.”
“And how do I do that?”
“You don’t have to try sometimes. Like right now. Just having you this docile in my arms is enough.”
Her lips part, which is either an indication of surprise or being touched, or both. Hopefully, it’s both.
I like getting under her skin. It’s as close as I can get to seeing inside her without having her blood decorate my carpet.
She clears her throat. “Can I ask you something?”
“You already did.”
She rolls her eyes. “Can I ask another question?”
“You don’t have to ask for permission to ask me anything.”
Her throat works up and down with a swallow and I can barely resist the need to wrap my fingers around her neck.
This is bad.
I don’t usually like strangling outside of sex. But maybe the nudity status of our bodies is what’s triggering this.
Or I choose to believe that.
“Earlier, if I’d said no and asked you to stop, would you have stopped?”
“Why are you asking a hypothetical question when everything is said and done?”
“Because.”
“Bullshit. You feel guilty that you wanted me and you’re trying to convince yourself that you couldn’t have stopped this even if you’d tried.”
“Could I have stopped it?” she whispers.
“Maybe or maybe not.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get.”
She releases a frustrated sound then remains silent, probably thinking of methods to get what she wants or piss me off. She seems to have a knack for those.
After a while of complete silence, she reaches a hand to my side. It’s hesitant at first before she becomes bolder and slides her fingers over my skin.
“Why did you get ravens as tattoos?”
“They’re crows, not ravens.”
“There’s not much of a difference.”
“On the contrary. Ravens are all about bad omens and ill-fatea terminology I don’t believe in.”
“Don’t crows have the same symbolism?”
“No. Crows are all about death—more spiritual than physical. I got these tattoos after I killed the impulsive, low on self-control, blatantly violent Killian. He was a disgrace to the balanced me from the present.”
“Or he just wanted to be understood.” Her soft murmur echoes in the air, then she purses her lips as if regretting what she said.
My body goes rigid. That’s the first fucking time someone ever said that about my less sophisticated version.
And I don’t know whether or not I should strangle her for it.
I wrap my arms around her middle and lift her up with me as I rise to my feet.
She gasps and automatically holds on to me as I step to the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to take care of your pesky soreness before I fuck you again.”
23
GLYNDON
“I expected betrayal from anyone in the world, but not from you, Glyn. Are you really abandoning me?”
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