Page 147 of In Shadows We Dance

His tongue flicks out, licks over the pad of my fingertip, and a growl rumbles from deep inside him. His hands move, sliding over my ribs, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples before moving on. I arch into his touch, my skin burning where his fingers pass.

"My pretty Ballerina." He sits up, his hand tangling in my hair, the other tracing fire across my skin. "You always surprise me. Always pushing at the edges."

"Not your scared little ghost girl anymore." I roll my hips against him, against his arousal, relishing the hiss of his breath. "Not something to cage or control or?—"

His mouth lands on mine, swallowing the words. There’s nothing gentle in the way he kisses me. There’s only need, possession,hunger. His teeth nip at my lower lip. The coppery taste of blood hits my tongue, and it sends a surge of desire through me.

“If this is what you want, there's no going back.” His teeth bite along my throat, his words vibrating against my skin.

I rake my nails down his spine, throwing my head back. The next thing I know, the world spins, and I’m on my back, Wren above me, his weight pinning me down. He braces on one arm, staring at me, eyes feral and wild for a second before his gaze shifts. I follow it as he reaches toward the bag by the bed. When he pulls out his camera, my breath catches.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, waiting. It’s a silent question—a test of trust. The camera has always been his weapon, his way of asserting power, of capturing me in moments of surrender.

I swallow, lick my lips, and nod. His eyes darken, and a hungry smile pulls his lips up when he raises the camera. The shutter clicks, and the sound sends a shiver of adrenaline through me.

“Mine.” His voice is a growl, the camera clicking again. “Every inch. Every breath. Every piece of you.”

His free hand moves down my body, fingers rough andpossessive. The flash illuminates my skin, his touch branding me. My body arches toward him, craving more. The contrast of the cold lens and his heated touch blurs the line between fear and desire.

His fingers skate over my hip, the camera tilting slightly as he captures the way I shiver beneath him, the way I’m laid bare. There’s no fear left. Just unrelenting, aching hunger.

“You want control, Ballerina?” His voice is a low rasp, his hand moving lower, fingertips skimming my thigh. “Then take it. Show me what you want.”

I grab his hair, yanking his mouth to mine. The kiss is frantic, tongues tangling, and the camera falls from his hand. He wraps his fingers around my throat, tightening just enough to make my head spin.

His grip, his weight, the way his gaze locks on mine like I’m the only thing that matters … it makes everything else fade away.

“Tell me you want me.”

I don’t reply. His fingers tighten further.

“Tell me.”

A smile pulls at my lips, breathless. “Make me.”

His laughter is dark, rough, vibrating against my chest. “Oh, my brave little Ballerina. Let’s see how long it takes me to make you beg.”

CHAPTER 76

Breaking Patterns

WREN

I claim her mouth,devouring her moan as I press her into the mattress. My weight pins her down, heavy and unrelenting, my leg forcing hers apart until she’s spread wide beneath me. My hand closes firmly around her throat, my thumb brushing over the frantic thrum of her pulse. Her gasp is strangled, desperate, as her body arches instinctively, offering herself to me.

I drag my mouth from hers, trailing my tongue along her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin as I make my way down her neck. Her breath stutters, her chest heaving, and I bite at the delicate line of her throat, hard enough to make her cry out. My free hand grips her hip, holding her in place as she twists beneath me. It's not in resistance, but in a silent plea for more.

Her breath hitches when my teeth find her collarbone, then lower still, nipping my way over the curve of her breast. I capture her nipple between my teeth, biting down until her gasp becomes a hiss, her hands clutching at my shoulders.

“Stay still,” I growl, the words vibrating against her skin. My hand tightens around her throat, cutting off her air for just a moment, forcing her focus to narrow to me.

I move lower, my teeth sinking into the tender flesh beneath her breast. Her body jerks, another choked gasp breaking free, but I don’t let up. My free hand moves roughly over her body, gripping her thighs, her waist, her ribs. Each touch leaves a mark, bruises she’ll wear for days.

“Beg for me.”

Her lips part, her breaths uneven, but instead of pleading, she smiles. A faint hint of rebellion, enough to stoke the fireroaring inside me.

My teeth sink deeper into her skin. Her body writhes beneath me. My grip on her throat tightens further, cutting off her air, her voice, forcing her to feel only me.

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