Chapter 41: I Hate Myself
The moment Diane whispered those words—"Don't hurt me, Gabriel."—a small, knowing smile curled at the edge of his lips.
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, so gentle it was almost painful.
"I have to," he murmured.
Diane swallowed, her breath was so shallow.
"Why?"
Gabriel's fingers slid down her arm, tracing her exposed skin with gentle slowness.
"Because, my love," he muttered, "pain is the only thing that reminds us we're alive."
His lips hovered over hers, teasing, taunting.
Diane tried to turn her head away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"You're shaking," he observed, feeling amused. "Is it fear, or something else?"
Diane's pulse was wild. "You want me to admit that I like this?" she whispered.
Gabriel smiled again, dragging his fingers down her spine.
"I want you to admit the truth."
She clenched her jaw, refusing.