God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

The fact remains, Jeremy does see the world in black and white, which is why he barely trusts anyone, but when he does, it’s for life.

That’s the other thing about Jeremy. He truly has high regard for loyalty, which is why he got extremely mad when he thought I’d let Annika down.

And that’s the link that’s confusing me in this whole story. We still haven’t resolved what happened with Annika, yet every night, he picks me up from the shelter, the dorm, or the library, not caring that anyone can see him. He brings me to the cottage, where we cook, eat, and study together.

He fucks me, sometimes by chasing, other times by just taking me on the bed or the sofa in regular positions.

For some reason, I thought I’d never like that, that I was too defective to ever feel pleasure without some sort of thrill or feeling forced into it. Jeremy has taught me that I can enjoy ordinary sex.

Calling it ordinary is a bit of a stretch, though. He’s still rough, intense, and uses the knife sometimes. Not that I’m complaining.

Jeremy has awakened parts of me that were dormant before he came along. Parts that buzz to life around him, waiting for the moment he’ll touch me again.

Whether it’s chasing me or laying me down and fucking me doesn’t matter. I pant for more after every time.

I’m powerful despite handing over my power. He doesn’t abuse it and makes me feel safe in his arms.

I’ve come to the realization that I feel this way because it’s Jeremy. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have this level of desire and peaceful acceptance of my sexuality.

Every night, he cleans me or showers with me. He asks me about my day, and not in the small talk kind of way where people ask and then zone out.

Jeremy actually listens intently to everything I say. He makes me feel important and wanted, like I have someone to fall back on.

I still need to be careful about slandering anyone in front of him or mentioning even the slightest annoyance, because the other day, I told him that a colleague scratched my car unintentionally, and the following day, that colleague’s car paint was found wholly ruined.

When I asked Jeremy if he did it, he shrugged. “It must’ve happened unintentionally.”

I’m struggling to come to terms with that part of him, even though I know it would probably be impossible to stop him from being himself.

The parts that make up for it, though, are when he built me shelves in the cottage and continued to stuff them with mangas. Or when he listens to me talking nonstop about them without being bothered. Unless I actually call a character hot or cute, then he definitely starts questioning if maybe he should get rid of them.

Jealous of a fictional character, check.

At night, he covers me and only allows me to sleep either in the cocoon of his body or on his lap.

Like right now.

I stare up at him, at the hard ridges of his face, the slickness of his abs, and the ink that flexes with his muscles while he types on his phone. His other hand lies nonchalantly on my chest, nearly covering it all.

It’s past three in the morning. Even though I slept a few hours ago, I couldn’t help waking up again.

This time, it’s not because of sleep paralysis. In fact, I haven’t had any in the past few days.

I couldn’t sleep properly because of two things that have been bugging me. I think I just confirmed the most minor one.

“Do you not sleep?” I ask in a low voice.

Jeremy pulls the phone away from his face, throws it on the sofa, and lets his fingers get lost in my hair. The act has become so natural that I can’t help closing my eyes briefly in response to his touch.

“I do. Just not often and not too much.”

“Why not?”

“In my early teens, I avoided sleep because it brought nightmares of the less glamorous version of Mom, and it’s become a habit since then.”

I wrap my hand around the one on my chest, gently stroking the skin and the veins at the back. “I understand. I also preferred not to sleep when the sleep paralysis got to be too much. Whenever night fell, and the world was sleeping, the idea of closing my eyes and being assaulted by a replay of what happened brought me to tears. It terrified me.”

His fingers pause in my hair before resuming their rhythm. It’s a fraction of a second, but I feel the change and deduce his line of thinking.

“Jeremy, no.”

He raises a brow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it in your eyes that you plan to torture Jonah some more in prison, maybe take it to the next level and kill him.”

“He doesn’t deserve death yet, and he won’t for the following, say, thirty years. He’ll wish for it, though, countless times a day.”

I wince, and he notices, because his eyes narrow. “Do you have an objection?”

“I just…find all of this hard to get used to. You already got all my and the other girls’ photos from Jonah and burned them. He’s already been locked up for his crimes. He’s lost his reputation and freedom. Shouldn’t that suffice?”

“No. He’ll have to lose his dignity and his mind, and even that won’t be enough payment for how he made you suffer. He stripped away your power, so I’m confiscating his in return. He’ll be trapped in that prison for eternity without being able to fight his way out. Just like he made you feel trapped in your own body.”