If I couldn't resist it, then what chance did she have? I tasted the bright salt of her tears, drank them down, and instead of tasting me, learning me, the little savage bit me.
A grunt of outrage ripped from my throat when her teeth sank into my bottom lip with a vengeance.
I wrenched back.
Her eyes widened as she stared at my lip, the place where she fought back. The sting was surprisingly sharp under my fingers, and the metallic taste of blood coated my tongue, stealing away the taste of her lips.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…you just surprised me…" Her rambling trailed off as I lifted my fingers and we both saw the drop of blood she drew.
I swiped my tongue over the blood, letting the drop settle before kissing her again.
She drew first blood, but was she strong enough to claim her prize? Would she taste it on my kiss willingly, or would I have to force her to accept it?
This time, she realized I was kissing her and she remained still, her trembling body stiff as she tried to fight it. She held back for a good minute, so fucking strong, before she softened against me.
Her back arched as her fingers curled and her lips opened to mine. They may have been coated with the salt of her tears, but even that could not obscure lingering hints of warm coffee and vanilla lip gloss.
She tasted like everything I thought I didn't want, but I needed more.
Knowing that this was a mistake, I pulled back for just a second.
She wasn't a piece of ass that could be bought and paid for. She wasn't a girl who liked to live on the edge by sleeping with dangerous men.
Eleanor wasn't mine to claim.
She was a mission, a means to an end, not a woman meant to warm my bed.
But then she stared up at me with those stormy eyes, filled with all her complexity. Those puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together yet, that I had to solve.
"Maya plennaya soloveyka," I muttered—my captive nightingale.
I stared down into her eyes, and she stared back at me defiantly.
There was a fire there, a strength that someone had almost snuffed out.
I ran my thumb over her lips before claiming her mouth again.
Her resistance returned, but she didn't dare sink her teeth into me again.
She wanted to play hard to get. It made sense. She had fought her mother's expectations for her. Fought the expectations of the life that she had been born into.
Fighting was all she knew.
I was going to teach her how to submit.
Her eyes may have said no, but her hips said what I wasn't going to give her mouth a chance to object to. I tightened my hands around her wrists. Her body lifted, her hips angling toward me, rubbing against me, begging for more.
This wasn't a smart thing to do. It wasn't a logical thing to do, but for the first time in my life, I didn't give a damn. I wouldn't run through the pros and cons. I wouldn't dissect this decision.
This little nightingale opened up something in me. She made me want to feel, so that was what I was going to do. And she was going to help.
I let go of her wrists just long enough to sweep her into my arms and carry her into the bedroom.
CHAPTER 8
ANNA
Ididn't say yes. I didn't say anything.
