I don’t think. I don’t weigh the danger.
I move.
My free hand slices through the air before I can stop it, and the sharp crack of my palm colliding with his cheek splits the room wide open.
The sound startles even me. His head snaps slightly to the side, and for a frozen heartbeat, the only thing I hear is the thunder of my own pulse.
I slapped him. I actually slapped him.
And God help me, it felt good.
For a few seconds, nothing happens. His cheek stays tilted where my hand sent it, his expression unreadable, carved from stone. My chest heaves, waiting, dreading—
Then he moves.
In a blur, his hand clamps around my waist, iron-tight, stealing the air from my lungs. I gasp as my feet leave the ground, as though I weigh nothing to him.
“Niko—”
The protest dies as he drags me across the suite, not stopping until we crash through the double doors of the massive bedroom. The space swallows me whole—towering ceilings, a bed big enough to drown in—before he shoves me down onto the sheets.
The mattress dips beneath my weight, bouncing once under the force of his throw. I scramble back on instinct, palmspressing against the velvet spread, my pulse ricocheting through my body.
He looms over me, shadows cutting sharp across his face, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something I can’t name.
Not anger. Not desire. Something far more dangerous—because it looks like both. His hand clamps around my ankle like a vise, unyielding, and he yanks me back down before I can escape. The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp as my body jerks against the sheets.
Then he’s there. Above me. All of him.
His weight cages me in, his shadow swallowing mine, and before I can curse him, before I can tell him to get off me, his mouth crashes down on mine.
It’s not a kiss. It’s a claim. Fierce, searing, unrelenting—like he’s branding me with the fact that I am his.
I twist, push, claw at his shoulders, but he doesn’t flinch. His lips devour mine, his hand catching my jaw and tilting it so he can take more, deeper, harder, until the fight tangles with something I don’t want to name.
At first, it’s all him—unyielding, consuming, like he’s forcing me to remember exactly who holds the reins here. But then something in me snaps.
I kiss him back. Harder. Fiercer.
It’s reckless, wild, and wrong, but I don’t care. My hands fist in his shirt, dragging him closer, daring him to take even more. His lips are brutal against mine, raw and merciless, and every scrape of his teeth, every crush of his mouth makes my pulse race faster.
I should hate this. Hate him. But the truth claws up inside me—I like it. I like the danger coiled in his touch, the dominance that crackles off him like lightning. I like knowing that Nikolai Volkov-Rusnak is a man who could ruin me…and that part of me wants him to.
The thought disgusts me. Annoys me. Sets my blood on fire.
Before I can stop myself, my hand cracks across his face again, sharper than the first. He jerks back a fraction, eyes narrowing, and I shove at his chest.
“Get off me!”
I don’t make it far. His hand closes around my throat like a steel collar, lifting me just enough that my toes barely scrape the carpet. In one swift motion, he drives me backward until my spine hits the edge of the table, rattling glass and steel.
His grip tightens, not cutting off my air but making sure I feel every ounce of his control. His gaze is a storm—cold, lethal, unrelenting.
“You think you can put your hands on me and walk away?” His voice is low, almost calm, and that’s what terrifies me most. He leans in until his mouth nearly brushes mine. “Now I’ll make sure you remember this every time you move. I’ll make you sore for days.”
Before I can answer, he sweeps me off the floor like I weigh nothing, hoisting me onto the table. My spine slams against the polished surface, the sting ricocheting down my body. His palm pins my chest as he cages me in, towering, merciless, consuming every inch of air I thought belonged to me.
I thrash, shoving at his arms, but it’s useless. His strength is terrifying—and God help me, intoxicating. His mouth crushes mine again, blistering, all teeth and fire, and I hate how fast I’m unraveling under him.
