Nyx’s POV
“God, please,” I cried, my voice breaking as the tears started to fall. I didn’t even know why I was crying. It was the heat, the frustration, the pain—everything. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
The words spilled out of me, sharp and venomous, but I wasn’t even sure if I meant them. I was angry—angry at him, at myself, at the situation I was in. But the anger was tangled up with the desire, and I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Dominico’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting from fury to something deeper, something more primal. His hands tightened on my shoulders, and for a moment, I thought he was going to snap. His control was hanging by a thread, and I could see it in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath came out in short, harsh bursts.
