Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) (6 page)

Chapter 4

The flicker of relief that crossed Claudia’s face as Bradley unlocked the door sent a hot spear of anger shooting through my gut.  One
thing that had consoled me in this whole shitty situation was that she was more afraid of him than she was of me.  And while I knew that was completely fucked up, I couldn’t help the fury I felt at seeing her relieved expression at his return.   I refused to even contemplate the sour tang of jealousy that arose in the back of my throat. 

Did she really prefer his violently threatening presence to my erotically threatening one?  And how shitty was I for even wondering something like that?  Did I really expect her to be more comfortable with the prospect of rape than a beating?

My jaw ached as I ground my teeth in frustration.

Not rape. 
I would never do that, not to any woman.  And certainly not to her.

But you
do
want to do that,
the castigating voice that lurked in the back of my mind whispered insidiously.  I wanted to tie her down and hurt her.  And even though in my fantasies she was a willing, eager participant, manipulating a sexually naïve woman into submitting to me was just as twisted as fucking her brutally without her consent.

Wasn’t it?

“Here,” Bradley said gruffly as he tossed a bag of clothes at Claudia.  Her eyes flashed and her lips pursed together tightly as she examined its contents.  They clearly weren’t to her liking.  Damn it.  I knew that women could be very picky about their clothing; their personal identity was often tied into their sense of style.  Maybe it would have been better if I just let her wear my clothes instead of making her feel like she was having to surrender yet another part of herself.

Or maybe I was just telling myself that because I would love to see her wearing my white t-shirt every day. 
And nothing else.

Yeah, because that would make her
way
more comfortable,
I thought derisively.

When she spoke to Bradley, her tone was as icy as her glare.  “Can I have that shower now?”  There was none of the meek hesitancy in the request as there had been when she had asked me the same question earlier.  Between Bradley’s threats and my blatant flirting, Claudia seemed to be reaching the end of her rope.  She needed a break from us, a few moments of privacy. 
And hell if I didn’t need that too.  I could use some time away from her, a chance to get my head screwed on straight. 

Because when I was around her, I was completely out of control.  I couldn’t seem to regulate my thoughts, my mouth, or my dick.  Most things in my life might be hopelessly out of my hands, but in my own bedroom I was always the one in control.

She was a paradox.  Everything in me screamed at me to demand her submission, but that need was so insistent that I couldn’t govern my own reactions to her.  Being around her was maddening, was making me lose my grip on the only aspect of my life where I could be in control: sex.

My knee-jerk reaction was to resent her, to hate her for that.  But I just hated myself.  I had always had my qualms about my lifestyle, but I had managed to shove them to the back of my mind.  If I didn’t have this, then I would have gone crazy a long time ago.  And I would
probably be dead.  I would have tried to kill Ronan – my father – for what he did to me, for who he has forced me to become, and I certainly wouldn’t have survived that, even if I had succeeded.  Someone who wanted to take his place would have made an example of me.

Ronan had taken everything from me, but I wouldn’t let him have this.  I wouldn’t let him taint the only source of pleasure in my life.

I’m not like him.  I don’t want to hurt women.  That’s not why I’m like this.

But I did hurt women.  And I enjoyed it.  Watching a woman’s ass redden under my hand got me hard, and seeing the submission in her eyes as I did so gave me a rush unlike anything else.  I might cloak it in the guise of pleasure, but how was beating a woman into submission any different from what my father had done to my mother?

I glared at Claudia’s retreating back as she headed towards the bathroom, Bradley in tow.  She was making me consider forsaking the only good thing in my life.

But that wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t
her
fault that she was trapped in my room with me, tormenting me.  With that thought, my resentment turned on Bradley for putting her here, and another fissure cracked in the brotherly bond that I had always shared with him.

Once I was alone, I wasn’t granted any relief from the sexual frustration that Claudia had inflicted upon me.  Blood pulsed to my cock, and I longed to seek release.  I kept my hands resolutely fisted at my sides, trying to ignore the resultant pain in my shoulder from constantly tensing my muscles.

If I touched myself, then she would win; it would be an admission of my powerlessness when it came to her.  I was determined to control my lust.  If she ever did slake it, it would be on my terms.  I would come in her hot pussy, not my own hand.  And I would make her beg me for it, make her fall to her knees and moan my name as she pleaded with me to give her my cock.

I bit back a groan at my wayward thoughts.  It seemed that being freed of her presence didn’t make her any less enticing.  I was still surrounded by her scent, and the sheets were rumpled from where she had lain beside me.  Waking up with her soft body pressed up against mine had felt so damn sweet…

Shit.

It seemed an eternity before I heard Bradley’s harsh voice as he pounded on the bathroom door.  “Time’s up.  I’m not going to let you run up the water bill, princess.”

My first instinct was to be relieved that she would come back and I would no longer have the option of touching myself.  But I knew that things were only about get that much worse for me once she was in my bed again.

Despite my consternation, I couldn’t hold back a small smile at the thought of the indignant expression on her face in that moment.  I didn’t think that she would take too kindly to Bradley calling her “princess”.  I almost regretted that I couldn’t see her flashing eyes and pursed lips.  She clearly thought that her censorious glare was intimidating, but the very idea of the fragile woman posing any sort of threat was laughable.

For someone so non-threatening, she’s sure done a number on me,
I admitted to myself grudgingly.

When she appeared in my doorway, it became clear just how dangerous she was for me.  The hunger within me flared at the sight of her.  The dampness of her hair made it a few shades
darker than usual, only further offsetting her striking, flawless alabaster skin.  The locks fell around her face in soft waves, framing her high cheekbones and delicate, pointed chin.  The dress she wore was obviously second-hand, but the way that it tapered to her waist before flaring out over her hips accentuated the feminine shape that had been obscured by her slacks and blouse.  Her long legs were revealed to me for the first time, and my gaze roved all the way up from her slender ankles to the dress’ hemline.  My mouth watered at the thought of what the frayed cotton fabric concealed.  Although the neckline was too high to hint at any cleavage, the creamy expanse of skin revealed by the spaghetti-strap design was undeniably beguiling.  I longed to trace the line of her collarbone with my tongue, to hear her soft gasp as I kissed the little hollow at the base of her throat.  Just the column of her slim neck made lust pulse through me as an image of wrapping my hand around it as I fucked her flashed across my mind.

My eyes continued their upward progress, and I was pleased to see that gorgeous, soft shade of pink coloring her cheeks.  Did she enjoy the way I studied her as much as I enjoyed drinking her in?

My gaze finally locked with hers, and the predator within me stirred.  Her grey eyes were wide and slightly shocked.  Her surprise at her reaction to me as well as the embarrassment that heated her cheeks let me know that her lust for me was just as uncontrollable as mine was for her.  It might not mean that I had the upper hand, but at least we were on even footing.  She looked so damn tantalizing, an innocent who secretly longed to be corrupted.

My grin was knowing and wolfish, a dark promise that I could extinguish that innocence if she asked me to. 
If she begged me to.  And I would make her beg.  She would be eager to do so once I began toying with her. 

Her plump pink lips parted slightly, and desire flickered in her eyes.  She seemed to suddenly realize her mistake, and her mouth twisted down into a scowl, her eyes narrowing.

But I knew what I had seen, and no amount of glaring was going to erase that knowledge.  Her show of resistance only further goaded my pursuit.  I would chip away at that disapproving mask until it crumbled.  I would force her to acknowledge that she wanted me.  No woman had ever presented me with such a challenge, and the prospect of breaking her to my will blotted out all other thoughts, consuming me.

“It’s a shame I missed shower time,” I commented, the huskiness in my voice belying my casual tone.  Her hard expression slipped ever so slightly as the lines around her mouth relaxed, and her gaze turned momentarily inward.  I wondered what depraved images were flashing across her mind.  And I knew that they were depraved, because her countenance was su
ddenly disconcerted, confused.

She tried to school her expression back to nonchalance, struggling to shake off what I was making her feel.   “We really should clean that wound,” she said, clearly trying to re-assert her authority.  But I knew her better than that now.  The coldly clinical doctor guise was her default when she was trying to deny feelings that she would rather not experience.  But I wasn’t going to allow her that reprieve, not when I was gaining ground.  It was one thing to bury fear and pain, but lust was something that shouldn’t be denied.  And it seemed to be something that she had denied for far too long.  I was going to change that.

“Ah,” I said teasingly, not giving her an inch.  “So it seems shower time is back on the table, after all.”

She folded her arms across her chest.  Her petulance was adorable.  “Not in a million years,” she told me coldly before addressing Bradley.  “I need a soft, wet cloth and some mild soap.”

He glowered at her, but he went to fetch the things that she asked for.  My health was clearly more important to him than putting her in her place, and I was grateful for that.  It meant that I didn’t have to strain myself by coming to her defense again.

I eyed Claudia appraisingly.  She might think that she was re-asserting control, but the fact that she had turned her bossiness on Bradley rather than me was a point in my favor.  But allowing her any sense of power now would negate that.

I grinned, thoroughly enjoying this game.  “Why, Nurse Claudia, are you going to give me a sponge bath?”

She stiffened, snapping at me in her exasperation.  “It’s Doctor Ellers.  And this is purely a clinical procedure, not some kinky fantasy you’re cooking up based on a sordid porno.  Do you want to die from an infection?   Because believe me, there is nothing sexy about that.”

I held up my hands, palms facing outward in a show of defeat.  But the overly-exaggerated gesture let her know that I wasn’t at all apologetic.

“Alright, alright,” I sighed dramatically.  “Sexy is kind of my thing, so I wouldn’t want to go ruining it.”

She glowered at me, but my mocking smirk remained firmly in place.  I wasn’t going to let her little shows of hostility affect me any longer.  Her barbed words had made me feel guilty before, but now I knew that they were hallmarks of her resistance, of her denial of her desires.

Finally, she capitulated, her eyes dropping in order to break from my implacable gaze.  Although she threw up her hands and made a little exasperated noise, I was flooded with triumphant pleasure at just that small indication of my power over her.  She might be strong, but I was stronger.

All of her attention turned to her task as she attempted to ignore her reaction to me by clinging to her primary sense of identity, that of the haughty, cold doctor whose authority was assured by her knowledge and intelligence.  But her fingers shook slightly as she reached for her first aid kit and wiped down her hands with antiseptic.  I didn’t fail to notice that she took a deep breath to brace herself before turning back to me.

Bradley had returned with the items she had requested, and she couldn’t justifiably keep her distance from me any longer.  She shot me a sharp look that demanded my cooperation. “If I hear one more disgusting word out of you, I’ll stop.  Then it’ll be up to Nurse Bradley to take care of you,” she threatened.

I shuddered.  “No, thank you.  I promise I’ll be good.”  My lopsided smile communicated that I didn’t mean that in the slightest.

I continued to study her as she removed the gauze that covered my wound, and I relished the way that she kept her eyes downcast.  When she began to gently wipe the dried blood from my chest with a soapy cloth, her expression slipped from being guarded to
mesmerized.  And I couldn’t help being equally as entranced by her as she became transfixed by my body.  The tension left her muscles and her face softened.  The sight of it mingled with the tenderness of her touch called to something deep within me.  Despite her hard protective walls, at her core she was compassionate and vulnerable.  And I had tapped into that part of her, even if she was unwitting of what she was revealing to me.  The realization awoke a warm glow in my chest.