Mishka whispered, "Yes."
The glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor with a crash that momentarily broke the spell between us.
Mishka jerked away from me, cursing under his breath. "I'll get it," he said, already kneeling to collect the larger pieces.
My protective instincts flared instantly. "Don't," I commanded, moving quickly to his side. "You'll cut yourself."
He ignored me, reaching for a jagged shard. "I'm not helpless. I can clean up my own mess."
The stubborn independence would have been admirable if it weren't so frustrating. I knelt beside him, grasping his wrist to stop him. "There are brooms for this. And I have staff who—"
"I don't need your staff to clean up after me," he interrupted, trying to pull his wrist from my grip.
The defiance ignited something primal in me. My bear, already prowling restlessly beneath the surface of my control, surged forward with a possessive fury that overwhelmed my rational mind.
In one fluid movement, I pulled Mishka to his feet and backed him against the kitchen island. His eyes widened in surprise as my hands gripped his hips, lifting him slightly so our faces were level. The marble edge must have been cold against his back, but he didn't flinch.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
His scent enveloped me, intoxicating and electric. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pressed my body against his, pinning him to the island. One of my hands moved to his lower back while the other tangled in his hair, tilting his face up to mine.
Our faces were mere inches apart, his breath warm against my lips. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, hear the frantic beating of his heart that matched my own. The overhead lights flickered wildly, responding to his surging emotions.
"I've been fighting this all night," I growled, my voice rough with need that had been building since I first found him under my desk. My bear was dangerously close to the surface now, demanding I take what it had already claimed as ours.
Mishka's green eyes darkened, pupils dilating as they dropped to my lips. His slender body trembled against mine, but not with fear, with want.
I expected hesitation, perhaps even rejection. What I didn't expect was for Mishka to grab my face between his hands and crash his lips against mine with hunger that matched my own.
The boldness stunned me momentarily before my bear roared in triumph, spurring me to respond with a century of pent-up desire. His lips were soft yet demanding against mine, a contradiction that perfectly embodied everything about this surprising young man who had invaded my territory and, apparently, my self-control.
His slender fingers tangled in my hair, tugging with just enough force to send a shiver down my spine. I growled against his mouth, my large hands instinctively tightening on his hips. The marble island pressed into his back as I leaned into him, eliminating any space between our bodies.
When his tongue darted out to trace the seam of my lips, I nearly lost what little remained of my composure. I opened to him, deepening the kiss with a ferocity that should have frightened him. Instead, he moaned—a sound so erotic it made my bear howl with satisfaction.
Mine. Mine. MINE.
I slid one hand from his hip to the small of his back, pulling him impossibly closer while my other hand moved up to cradle the back of his head. The contrast between my massive palm and his delicate neck was striking—a reminder of how easily I could hurt him if I lost control.
Yet even as that thought crossed my mind, Mishka bit down on my lower lip, his teeth grazing with just enough pressure to send white-hot desire coursing through me. He wasn't afraid of my strength. If anything, he seemed to revel in it.
"You're playing with fire, little one," I murmured against his lips, my accent thickening as it always did when my emotions ran high.
His response was to kiss me harder, his lithe body arching into mine with unmistakable intent. I felt his hardness press against me, matching my own arousal. The lights above us flickered frantically, mirroring the erratic pulse of my heart.
Mishka's hands moved from my hair to the front of my shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons before apparently deciding they were too much trouble. With surprising strength, he ripped the shirt open, sending buttons scattering across the kitchen floor.
The unexpected aggression sent a surge of lust through me so powerful I nearly shifted right there. My bear clawed at my insides, demanding I claim this bold creature who dared to challenge me even in this.
"Impatient," I growled, sliding my hands down to cup his ass, lifting him effortlessly onto the marble island. The height was perfect, bringing his face level with mine.
"You have no idea," he quipped breathlessly, his hands exploring the newly exposed expanse of my chest and stomach. His fingers traced the contours of my muscles with appreciation that bordered on reverence.
I chuckled darkly at his impertinence, even as I tugged at the hem of his shirt. Unlike him, I had enough restraint not to tear the fabric. I pulled it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside before returning my hands to his body.
His skin was pale and smooth, marred only by a few small scars that spoke of a life less sheltered than his youthful appearance suggested. I traced one such mark on his collarbone, wondering at its story even as I bent to press my lips against it.
Mishka's head fell back, exposing the elegant line of his throat to my hungry gaze. I couldn't resist, dragging my lips up the column of his neck to the sensitive spot behind his ear.
