"Stop." The word comes out as a growl. "You think that's why I touched you? For show?"
"You made it pretty clear yesterday." Her chin lifts in that defiant way that usually makes me want to kiss her. Right now, it makes me want to shake sense into her. "Protection is the only reason we're getting married, remember? Your exact words."
I take a step forward, and she holds her ground. "That's not?—"
"Not what? Not what you meant? Then what did you mean, Lorenzo? Because you've been pretty clear. I'm an obligation. A problem to solve. And if fucking me helps sell the story, then?—"
"Enough." I close the distance between us, backing her against the edge of the bed. "You want to know why I said that? Why I pushed you away?"
Her breath catches, but she doesn't back down. "Enlighten me."
"Because I'm trying to protect you from me." The words tear out of me. "Not from Daniil or the Russians or any other threat out there. From me, Sophia."
She blinks, confusion flickering across her features. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Doesn't it? You think I don't know what I am? What I do to people? I corrupt everything I touch."
"You're not?—"
"I am." My hand comes up to cup her face before I can stop myself. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't lean into it either. "You deserve better Sophia. Not marrying a man who's killed more people than you've probably met."
Her eyes search mine. "You think I don't know who you are?"
"I know exactly who you are," she says, her voice starting to shake. "You're the man who gave me sanctuary when my own family sold me. Who arranged for Marina to visit because you knew I was drowning in loneliness. You're the man who held me while I cried about my mother. Who taught me to defend myself. Who looks at me like I'm precious even when you're trying topush me away." Her voice rises with each word. "You think you're some monster? You think you corrupt things? You saved me, Lorenzo. Over and over again."
Each word cuts deeper than any knife could. I try to turn away, but she grabs my arm.
"No. You don't get to walk away from this." Tears stream down her face now, but her grip stays firm. "You want to know what I see when I look at you? I see a man who carries everyone else's pain."
"Stop." The word comes out strangled.
"I see someone who thinks he doesn't deserve love because one woman betrayed him. Who punishes himself every single day for something that wasn't his fault." She releases my arm only to press both hands against my chest. "You're not a monster, Lorenzo. You're just broken. Like me."
My chest constricts. Everything in me wants to believe her words, but I know better. I know what darkness lives inside me. What I'm capable of.
"You don't understand what you're asking for," I manage.
"Then tell me." She shoves at my chest, barely moving me. "Stop deciding for me. Stop pushing me away to protect me. Tell me what I'm asking for since you seem to know better than me."
The last thread of my control snaps. I grab her wrists, pinning them between us. "You want to know what you're asking for? Fine. You're asking for a man who'll never let you go. Who'll kill anyone who looks at you wrong. Who thinks about you every second of every day until it drives him insane."
Her breath hitches, but she doesn't pull away.
"You're asking for someone who wants to lock you in this room and never let you leave. Who gets violent just thinking about another man touching you. Who's so fucking obsessed with you that he can't think straight anymore." My grip tightenson her wrists. "That's what you're asking for, Sophia. A man who'll consume you. Own you. Ruin you for anyone else."
"Good," she whispers.
The word breaks something in me. "Good?"
"Yes, good. Because I don't want anyone else. I want you. The real you. Not this noble martyr act you're putting on." She tries to free her wrists, but I hold them firm. "I want the man who loses control when I touch him. Who looks at me like he wants to devour me. Who?—"
"Fuck it."
I crash my mouth against hers, swallowing whatever she was about to say. This isn't gentle. It's possession, pure and simple. My hands release her wrists only to tangle in her hair, angling her head exactly where I want it.
She makes a sound between a gasp and a moan, her hands fisting in my shirt. When she tries to speak against my lips, I bite down on her lower lip, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make my point.
Her body melts against mine, and I walk her backward until her legs hit the bed. But I don't push her down. Not yet. First, I need her to understand exactly what she's getting herself into.
