His eyes drift. His muscles go rigid. His breath turns sharp. The tension in his jaw pulses, and the hand not in my mouth lifts toward his temple, slow and trembling, as if pulled by invisible strings.
Oh shit.
He is spiraling.
Hard.
He mutters something in Russian under his breath, voice low and ragged. He presses his palm to his temple like he wants to crush something. The roots of my hair scream as he grips my head as panic or rage rises inside him. For a second, I think he will black out completely and I’ll be collateral damage. It scares me.
Just before I predict a full-on nuclear meltdown, I react.
I bite and drag my teeth along his thick shaft until it drops from my lips.
His breath stops. His entire body freezes. His eyes lock onto mine with a stunned, feral focus that hits me like a blow.
He stares.
Then a slow, dark smile curves the corner of his mouth.
“You don’t mind being scalded by flames, do you?”
I shake my head. “I’ll pull you out of any fire. I’m your wife now.”
His chest rises, one sharp inhale, as if my words hit broke through steel armor. Then his thumb traces the wet shine across my bottom lip, dragging it slowly, almost reverently.
“You bit me,” he adds quietly, astonished. “My little bride has teeth.”
Respect reflects in the gleam of his eyes.
I’m not torn anymore. Ilovethat look. My stomach flutters with butterflies and heat spirals low in my belly.
Okay, I’m still scared, but that look is addictive and I want more.
Before I can move, he grips my jaw and forces my gaze up. His head tilts. His eyes rake over me, naked and kneeling, shivering in front of the firelight. His chest rises in one slow, controlled breath. Something unreadable flickers across his face.
He squints.
“Oh. I get it. The mouse is fucking with me.”
My fate hangs between his next breath and his next thought.
And I do not know if he will be gentle.
Or break me.
Chapter 15
Peighton
Gustav yanks me to a stand. His breath ghosts across my lips, warm and ragged as he says, “I don’t need a mouse creeping into my fucking head.”
I groan, and though I don’t understand it, I feel like I own him. Like I can touch him at will. Say anything.
And I do.
My fingers slip to the back of his neck, and I press my naked body to his. “Then destroy me, Gustav. Because I’m not going anywhere and I don’t think you want me to.”
His lips purse together, his eyes searching mine, skeptical. I expected that. Nothing is normal or easy with him.
