Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) by Julia Sykes Page B

couldn’t add to her fear right now.  I needed to make her feel safe when she was in my presence.
    Her brow creas ed.
    “Sean, you’re hurt.”  The rush of pleasure that was elicited by her concern overrode the aching pain in my shoulder.  I had barely been aware of it anyway; all of my focus was honed on my plan to manipulate her into submission.
    “Put me down.”  Her demanding tone made me bristle, but I chose to ignore the sensation.  I would put an end to her bossiness soon.
    “Can you stand on your own?”  I asked, my hard expression communicating that I wouldn’t tolerate a lie.
    She rolled her eyes at me.  “Of course I can,” she said snippily.  “I’m not the one who’s hurt.”
    The signs of disrespect made my barely-suppressed anger spill over.
    “You’re not hurt?”  I questioned her harshly as I set her down on her feet.  Was she lying about her pain or was she really that oblivious to the damage that she had caused herself by running from me?
    I spun her body roughly so that she was facing the mirror.
    Her eyes widened as she took in her disheveled appearance, her gaze falling on her bruised cheekbone.
    “Oh,” she said softly.
    “ Oh? ”  I mimicked her ludicrously blasé response.  “Is that all you have to say?  What were you thinking?  Do you have any idea…?”
    I stopped myself before I went on a tirade.  Not only did I not wan t to scare her, but I realized that I was dangerously close to losing my control again.
    This is me under control?
    A small part of me recognized that I was in the grip of possessive insanity, but my madness had all but obliterated my rationality.
    She rounded on me, lightning crackling through the storm clouds in her eyes.  “What other choice did you give me?”  She hissed.  “Did you just expect me to stay here like a good girl?  To allow you to keep me as your pet forever?”
    For once, I didn’t find her anger remotely cute.  Her words hit too close to home.  That was exactly what I wanted to do with her.  That was what I was going to do with her.  There were no other options.
    “I don’t have a choice here, Claudia,” I ground out, willing her to understand that her demands that I release her were completely irrational and futile.
    “Yes, you do!”  She insisted hotly, half-shouting.  “And you’re making the wrong one!”
    Her eyes shone with tears again as she glared up at me, and she swiped at them angrily.  When her knuckles raked over her bruised cheek, she winced.
    I reached out automatically, my fingers encircling her slim wrist as I pulled her hand away from her face.  She wasn’t allowed to hurt herself.  From now on I controlled her pain; I knew how to administer it for her benefit.
    The indignant fury in her eyes melted, and she shivered slightly in response to my domineering touch.  The little furrow between her brows betrayed her confusion at her reaction to me.
    “Here,” I said softly.  “Let me.”
    I pressed my advantage, exploiting her moment of weakness by treating her gently.  Carefully, I brushed away the wetness on her cheeks.  The contrast of the tender touch with my firm grip on her wrist would mess with her thought processes, demonstrating that acceptance of my control would be rewarded.
    It was time to finish what we had started that afternoon.  She no longer had the option of saying no.  I would listen to the way that her body begged and ignore her words.  She didn’t really mean them anyway.  They were a product of her confusion, of her hesitancy.  But that sort of thinking was only making her new existence that much harder for her to endure.  Once I eradicated that reluctance, she would be much happier.
    I touched my hand to the side of her face, my fingers curving to match the line of her cheek, my thumb hooking below her jaw.  Although my touch barely brushed her skin, she went utterly still, trapped by my power over her just as effectively as she would be by the