Page 194 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Briar’s face pales for a second before darkening. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? I’m sure he made plenty of enemies.”

“If you don't have a good enough reason other than to cater to your penchant for violence, then please stop fighting him.”

“No.”

“Stop fighting him!”

“No, and get the hell out of my house, Rurik!”

“Not until you promise to stop going after the goddamn senator, Briar.”

“Why? Are you scared that I’ll end up killing him?”

My jaw tightens. I could feel my molars grating painfully.

Her eyes flash as she tilts her chin again, her warm breath brushing against my throat. She scoffs and mockingly whispers, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid he’ll be the one to end up killing me?”

“Yes!”

She leans back slightly, her eyes widening. Her brows furrow as her lips part. She blinks, “What? Yes, to what?”

As I step closer, she instinctively steps back, granting me the chance to enclose her within the space, my arms forming a barrier on either side of her. With my hands firmly planted on the counter, I effectively pin her in place, trapping her between my arms.

Her breathing hitches, her throat bobbing up and down as she tries to lean her head away from mine.

Her eyes narrow as I lean down. My lips barely brush against hers as I speak, “Yes, Briar. I’m scared he’ll kill you.”

She shivers a little and shakes her head as she places her hands on my chest to try and push me away. “I’m kind of insulted that you think I can’t take him down.”

I chuckle. “I know you can,” I murmur, cupping her cheek. She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. “I know what you’re capable of, Briar. But he’s the senator. He’s protected 24/7. One little slip can ruin your life. Didn’t you come close today?”

“But we escaped.”

“Barely,” I scoff. “And you were technically caught, remember? By me.”

“Are you going to turn me in?” Her lower lip juts forward in a sarcastic pout, and I want to bite it and leave a mark with my teeth. “Are you going to do society a favor and report the bad guy? Or, bad girl, in this case.” Her lips curve, “Have I been a bad girl, angel?”

“You’ve no fucking idea,” I growl before closing the distance between us and crashing our lips together.

Fuck. She’s fighting me tooth and nail. Literally.

She’s biting my lips and digging her nails into my forearms that it’s actually hurting. But I’ve dealt with worse pains, so I ignore it and continue pushing her back, my lips bruising against hers as I inhale her groans.

“Stop,” She mumbles between our lips.

“Tell me you’ll stop fighting,” I whisper, my lips trailing against her jaw and nibbling on the spot she finds ticklish under her ears.

Her shoulders lift as she releases beautifully tortured moans that go straight to my already hard dick.

“No,” This time, I let her push me back. She hardens her features and shoves me completely off of her.

I freeze when she pulls a knife out from the knife block. “Briar—”

What the…

She turns around and snaps, pointing that thing at me like a mad woman, “You have no right telling me what to do.”

I lean forward so the tip of the knife is on my chest. Her face falters, but she quickly masks it with another hard wall.

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