82. The words

[Carys]

“You have a thing for criminals, love?” He whispered in my ear.

I shut my eyes, shaking my head.

“There is no crime I wouldn’t commit for you — to you.”

Something irrationally dark and dangerous brewed in my chest at his words because I knew he didn’t mean them romantically or poetically. He meant every ounce of darkness held in those words.

“I know,” I said. I was pinned under the gravity of his darkening gaze.

The way he could make my mind and heart go delirious within seconds was scary. With needs far beyond the scope and boundaries of morality. Because at that moment, I instantly imagined him committing all the sick crimes to me, taking me in all the illegal ways right against that bookshelf.

Forget about the forbidden, I yearned to be a victim of his sins.

I quickly shoved off those intrusive thoughts, but they had already mixed with his words and his breaths and I was already poisoned. All that was left was to die at his hands.

The heat of his body ignited every