“Stop calling me that!' I squirmed.

'And you should stop doing that,' he said, his voice rougher, deeper. 'Then again. Please continue. It's the perfect kind of torture.'
...
'You're sick.'

'And twisted. Perverse, and dark.' The rough stubble of his chin dragged over my cheek, and my spine arched in response. He seemed to get even close as his fingers spread over mine. 'I'm a lot of things-'

'Murderer?”