“Says you,” I spit out at him. “How many virgins have you raped over the years?”
His eyes darken, but he doesn’t show any other reaction. “We aren’t talking about me.”
“We aren’t talking about me, either,” I say and stalk into the bathroom. He is making what we just did seem dirty and now more than ever, I need to get in that shower.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, sauntering into the bathroom.
My traitorous eyes can’t help dropping to his already erect cock bouncing in front of him.
“Stop talking then,” I mutter, tearing my gaze away from him.
“Not a chance,” he says lightly. “So, you went from being raped repeatedly to Constantine. A Vampire so incredibly vicious that he makes even me quake. And yet he treated you well. Until he got what he wanted from you.”
I gape at him. “Don’t you dare slur what we have.”
“Am I wrong?” he asks, ignoring me. “He took your pussy, showed you what it was really for, and then he turned you. What came next...let me see.” He taps his chin as I just stare at him, heartbroken that he is making everything so…so disgusting.
“Oh, yes. Sire’s discipline. Showering you with affection until you inevitably did something that pissed him off and he took it away.” He snaps his fingers under my nose. “Just like that. And you accepted it, not because it is the way of the Vampire, but because he actually gave you affection in the first place and you wanted it back. He gave you what you so desperately craved, even if, as a punishment, he took it away again. It kept you in line because you needed it to survive. You needed to feel that intimacy, so you did exactly what he wanted even if you didn’t want to. Am I right so far?”
“No,” I say quietly, lowering my eyes because he is hitting the nail right on the head.
“So much affection and then back to loneliness. A vicious cycle that fucked you up more than you can tell. So as soon as any man, or woman, pays you any kind of attention, you jump at it. Vito, for example. So forbidden, but you just couldn’t help yourself, damn the consequences. Me, a complete bastard that is incapable of love, of feelings, of affection. A monster that only wanted to get into your tight pussy to say that he had.”
“That’s not true!” I scream at him. “You loved me!”
“Eventually,” he agrees. “But not at first. You were a conquest and an easy one at that. Showed you some affection and you were dripping for me.”
“No...” I say, shaking my head. “Why are you saying this?” He is stomping on my already broken heart.
“You are an affection junkie, Aefre. It doesn’t matter who or where or what they want to do to you. As long as they cuddle you at the end of using you like a whore, you accept it as normal.”
“Rah!” I roar and fly at him with my claws drawn. “You are hateful! A monster!”
“You knew that a long time ago,” he says, grabbing my wrists to stop me from raking his eyes out. “Don’t get me started on what Lance did to you.” His steady gaze holds my tearful one. “He didn’t give you any affection, he just took what was already cracked and broke it into two. Then back into the vicious cycle with Constantine. You have never recovered, and until you accept that you are broken, Aefre. You never will.”
“No!” I say, dragging my wrists out of his tight grip, the tears falling down my cheeks. “You don’t know anything!”
“But I do. You wouldn’t be so upset now if what I said was lies.”
“You are a liar!” I screech at him. “You loved me. I wasn’t just a conquest to you. Say it!” I need to hear him say it. I need to hear that I wasn’t just a whore to him to bed and move on.
“You say it first,” he says quietly, catching me by surprise. “Say that you weren’t playing games with me, taunting me, teasing me, making me want you.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, confused.
“No?” he asks, seriously.
“I...I...” I give him a bewildered look.
“You don’t treat men very well, mi’ lady,” he says, when I don’t say anything else. “But you get away with it because of everything you have been through. It does you no favors to be mollycoddled.”
“I am nothing like you,” I hiss.
“I didn’t say that you were,” he replies blandly. “I am merely telling you that you are an affection junkie and it doesn’t matter what you need to do to get it, you will. As a by-product of that deep-rooted need, you come across as callous.”
“Callous?” I splutter.
“And cruel,” he adds, only fueling my anger at him.