As he'd expected, Terrence didn't have to wait long, at all. Not that he was bothered by the wait; it only made his anticipation greater, sensing her eagerness to get home. It didn't tell him whether she was actually on her way or not, but the moment he heard her in the flat and felt her reaction to the way he'd set the scene, he started to grin.
The sight of her in the doorway, with a look in her eyes that actually kept his gaze on her face for a long moment despite the fact that she was nearly naked, was all he needed to know that his plan had been a success. And not only that, but that it was only going to get better from here. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to be one of those poor bastards who bought chocolate and candy and wrote love notes in the hopes to get a glimpse of some sexy lingerie. No, he didn't want her dressing up for him, or feeling romantic; he wanted the bloody, fiery passion between them kindled even hotter for the holiday.
And holy hell, had it worked. His head fell back with a curse when she touched her mouth to his skin, one hand rising to tangle roughly in her hair, only resisting the urge to drag her up for a kiss because what she was doing felt so damn good. She had that devilish look in her eye that told him he was in for it in the best way possible.
Her words made his heart speed up, as if in anticipation of being clawed out of his chest, and he answered her with a growl, closing the small distance between their mouths, kissing her as though the heart he'd been promised was on her tongue. Then he took the last knife, the knife he'd been saving, and cut her chest, breaking the kiss to see what he was doing. He cut a slightly ragged circle over her heart, as if marking the spot, and then lifted his head to bite at the skin inside the circle, tearing it with his teeth. His hands gripped her shoulder and the back of her neck to keep her there, inadvertently pinning the knife between his palm and the nape of her neck.
Yes, he wanted her heart, wanted it marked on her body that it belonged to him, the way the tattoo on his chest meant that his belonged to her. He wanted all of her, ferociously, jealously, possessively, and as stupid as he'd once thought this holiday was, it was as good an opportunity as any to make that crystal clear.