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

by Sykes, Julia

  “It’s going to be a long-ass day if we sit here in silence,” I pointed out casually. “Care to try having a civil conversation? You know, one where you don’t snap at me every second sentence. It’s a cute habit, but it does make talking a bit difficult.” I sighed dramatically, imbuing my tone with a lightness that let her know that I was teasing her. “And I honestly don’t know if I could handle your onslaught in my fragile condition. You might just be the first woman to break me.” My smirk widened to my customary cocky grin, daring her to rise to my bait.

  But she didn’t have a hope of breaking me; no woman did. I wanted to break her. My cock jerked at the prospect. I craved to hold her down, to wring ecstasy from her body until her mind was utterly shattered, until she would do anything that I asked of her if only to earn more of that sweet release that I knew I was more than capable of granting her.

  The way that her lips pursed in annoyance at my show of arrogance was adorable. I observed her carefully as she wrestled with the irritation that made the small lines around her eyes crease, but after a moment, she let out a resigned sigh. The small show of capitulation, the knowledge that I was slowly gaining ground inch by inch, only increased my pleasure. Still, when she spoke she sounded peeved.

  “Fine,” she said shortly. “The weather really is lovely today. Not that I can really tell while cooped up in here, but the view through the window is nice.”

  I could tell that she was trying to goad my anger by reminding me of the unforgivable fate that I had inflicted upon her. But even though guilt flared in my gut, I refused to allow her to manipulate me.

  “Hey,” I said easily, determined to keep her talking, “beats solitary confinement. You get a room with a view and an excellent conversationalist as a cell mate. What more could you ask for?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. The little show of impertinence made the beast stir within me, and I indulged in a brief fantasy of correcting her, of reprimanding her. I pushed the image away, shelving it for later rather than obliterating it as I should have done.

  “That has yet to be determined,” she said disparagingly. “So far all I see is a cocky, horny asshole. I wouldn’t exactly call our verbal volleys ‘great conversation.’”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, surprised at her gumption. One minute I thought I was thoroughly in control of our interactions, and the next she was trying to knock me right back down a few pegs. Well I wasn’t going to concede so easily. “You are a regular little spitfire, aren’t you? Well, I don’t mind. Keeps things interesting.”

  I was enjoying teasing her, but I was suddenly struck by a deep desire to learn more about her; her feisty nature and the challenge in her eyes piqued my curiosity as well as my lust. “Enough about the weather,” I said with exaggerated seriousness. “I have a very important question for you. Consider carefully, as your response will determine whether you’re cool or not. Claudia,” I said her name solemnly. “What is your favorite TV show?”

  I was surprised to see that enticing shade of pink bloom on her cheeks once again in response to my simple question. Her perfect white teeth sunk lightly into her full lower lip, and the sight of her bashful uncertainty made my stomach do a little flip.

  “Ummm… I don’t really watch TV,” she admitted.

  I couldn’t help my surprised expression. I certainly hadn’t been expecting that. Who didn’t watch TV? Claudia didn’t exactly strike me as a soap opera junkie, but I could see her tuning in to more cerebral programming. Like NOVA or something on the History Channel. But apparently even educational programs were a waste of her formidable brain power. “Okay,” I said after a moment. “How about your favorite book?” Reading was what smart people did for a more intellectually stimulating act of escapism, wasn’t it?

  But the pink of her cheeks turned almost scarlet as her blood heated her pale skin. “I don’t really read for pleasure either.”

  Seriously? I knew that being a doctor probably took up a lot of time, but what kind of person denied themself any personal pleasures? The thought didn’t sit well with me. Claudia was far too interesting to live such a closeted lifestyle.

  She made an exasperated noise, and her expression hardened from one of embarrassment to something defensive. I hadn’t meant to offend her, but my shock must have been clear on my face. “Maybe Grey’s Anatomy, then,” she conceded.

  “That’s not exactly a ‘fun’ book,” I said. “What are you, a robot?”

  I regretted the words almost as soon as they left my mouth. But I truly didn’t understand how a person could go through life in such cold isolation. I had thought that I kept myself isolated, but Claudia’s emotional walls were clearly far thicker than my own. I again found myself wondering what terrible things she must have suffered that had shaped her into this guarded woman. My heart ached at the thought of her in pain. Those little flashes of innocence that I had seen didn’t seem to extend beyond her sexual experience. Her harsh expression told me that life had robbed her of her innocence long ago.

  “I’m a doctor,” she snapped. “I don’t exactly have time for things like TV and books that don’t pertain to my work. Funnily enough, I value being good at what I do over allowing insipid dramas to take up space in my brain.”

  I could understand being dedicated to your job, but her rationalization still didn’t satisfy me. “Definitely not a robot,” I nodded decisively. “You’re far too easy to get a rise out of for that. But not entirely human either. Do you have any life outside of your job?”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but I could still see the flash of pain in them.

  “I was right,” she said acerbically. “Turns out you are a shit conversationalist.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned her back on me, but I could tell that the stance was more defensive than defiant.

  Shit. Why couldn’t I stop fucking up every time I opened my mouth?

  “Claudia,” I said her name contritely, hating the sight of how I had hurt her. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

  “You never do seem to say what you mean,” she snapped, cutting me off. “We’re done talking.”

  The interlude from her hatred had been all too brief. I could practically feel the anger and hurt rolling off of her as she sat stiffly beside me, and it only reawakened my own fury at myself. The tension between us this time was colored with something darker as all of the loathing in the room was directed at me, pressing against me mercilessly. My muscles flexed as though in an effort to fight against the weight of it, my jaw clenched from the strain.

  I cursed myself for ever opening my stupid mouth, and the sick, perverse nature of all of my lustful thoughts came crashing down on me. But even then, images of holding her down, of ruthlessly using her body for our mutual pleasure until I earned her sweet submission, ran across my mind with horrible, sharp clarity.

  I breathed deeply in order to center myself, but inhaling her sweet scent only added to my torment.

  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 suddenly 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 woun
d,” 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.