I pummelled his chest with my fists, needing to understand. Needing him totalkto me.
“What are you doing?” I panted as his gaze locked on my lips. “What are you—”
“I’m ensuring they won’t kill you once it’s done.” His fingers locked around my nape, tugging my loose hair.
“Done?” My heart shot into my throat. “What’s done?”
His lips crashed over mine, shutting me up with a kiss.
Not gently.
Not kindly.
He kissed me as if the sky was about to fall, along with the fat raindrops splashing almost on cue. He squeezed the back of my neck and held me impossibly close, turning his head and bruising our lips as if sharing the most passionate of kisses.
But it wasn’t real.
I moaned at the fakery of it.
The overdone callous performance.
The hate pouring off him.
I went stiff in his embrace.
He wasn’t kissing me because he wanted to.
He kissed me for the drones—for the guards watching us on their screens. He kissed me because of an agenda I still didn’t understand. For a goal he was determined to reach.
I clawed at his waist, his voice echoing over and over in my head.“It’s me. It’s me. It’s me.”
If he planned to die today, then how would he complete his revenge?
How would he get out?
How did he plan on enraging his keepers by doing the one thing they wanted him to do?
Theywantedhim to be sexually active. They wanted the repercussions of pregnancy—
His hand landed on the neckline of my dress. The delicate fabric gave in to his fierce tug, sliding down my shoulder and baring the top of my breast.
“Wait—” I panted against his hard mouth.
In answer, his fingers tightened in my hair. His lips softened just a little. His eyes flashed open, checking to see we were still being watched, before a low growl rumbled in his chest and he gathered me painfully close.
I gasped as he crushed me.
I moaned as he hurt me.
His tongue speared past my parted lips, plungingdeepinto my mouth.
And the world ruptured.
He might’ve kissed me for show but...his tongue.
His taste.
His heat and power andviolence.
