Page 23 of Crown of Hate

He smiles, and my insides turn to liquid. I absolutely hate how beautiful and seductive he is. One more second of this and I might just lose it.

Fuck, and why shouldn’t I? I’m stuck here anyway. Who says being married to a. gorgeous monster has to be all bad? I could spend a night in this Greek god’s bed, then maybe unearth some dirt on him and plot my sweet revenge…

Sounds like a perfect plan—or maybe I already have Stockholm syndrome and I’m looking for any excuse to jump those bones.

Only one way to find out.

I shrug coyly, arching my back just enough to push my breasts out in a tantalizing display. “For someone who’ssupposed to be all brooding mystery, you sure love the sound of your own voice.”

“That only happens when I’m with you,malyshka.” He angles over me, his blue eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes my spine stiffen. He smells so good—citrus and whiskey with an underlying musk that’s pure, primal male.

“So, you only yap when you’re with me?” I huff a laugh, doing my best to project an air of confidence despite my runaway pulse. “Do you have a crush on me or something?”

Because, despite my best intentions, I sure as hell have one on him. A massive, all-consuming crush that has me dying to explore what’s hidden beneath those clothes.

It’s killing me.

A sinful smirk plays on his lips. “Is that what you think? Is that what youwant?”

I inch closer, pressing my knee between his thighs and dragging it all the way up until I feel the hard ridge of his erection. The bulge is massive. Terrifying. Utterly alluring. A surge of electricity zaps through me, and I’m tempted to reach down, to palm the beast below and stroke until he’s groaning my name. Maybe then I’d feel some power.

But I don’t. I may not have much experience with dating and all that, but I know this much: the one to give in first is usually the loser. I can’t bear to lose anymore.

Mikhail, however, seems unfazed by my bold move. He slips a finger under my chin and lifts my face. His mouth hovers dangerously close to mine, his warm breath caressing my skin like invisible flames.

I remember how he tasted. Unforgettable.

Unforgivable.

Still, he’s nearly impossible to resist. I lose myself to his touch, my breath ragged, my core aching. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips in blatant anticipation.

“I can’t resist you,” Mikhail rasps, his voice dripping with raw hunger. “And you can’t resist me either, can you?”

Before I can even draw another breath, he crushes his mouth into mine with a bruising, desperate kiss that steals the air from my lungs.

I rise up on my toes, winding my arm around his neck, needing to eliminate any space between us, to feel every steel-corded muscle of his frame pressed against me as I kiss him back.

“Fuck you,” I rasp, in between crushing kisses.

“It would be my fucking pleasure.”

He grunts, his hand fumbling blindly behind him for the doorknob as he guides us into the dimly lit bedroom. The air is thick with the masculine scent of his cologne and our mingled breaths.

“You monster,” I gasp, already drowning beneath him.

Mikhail pins me against the wall, his large hand clamping around my wrists, holding them captive above my head, breaking our kiss for a minute. The position leaves me completely exposed, vulnerable, and yet I’ve never felt more powerful.

“I’m your monster now, princess. Better get used to it.” His hooded gaze burns into mine, dark with unbridled lust.

I lick my kiss-swollen lips hungrily, desperate for another hit of his addictive taste.

“I’m not your princess.”

He smiles, those stormy blue eyes flickering with fire and lightning.

“That’s right, you’re no princess. Not anymore. We’re married,malyshka. That means you’re my fuckingqueen.”

He claims my lips again, the kiss fiercer, more ravenous than before. Then his mouth trails down my throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. I can feel his hard cock pressedagainst my thigh. Its teasing presence drives me crazy. I made him that big. He’s desperate for me.

---