Page 51 of Untamed

When I turn, Ember’s watching me, her arms still crossed but her posture softer now. Her lips part, but no words come out. Instead, steps closer to me.

“That was hot,” she whispers. “The uh… difference between reality and fantasy? That one right there? Checks out on both fronts.”

I can’t help it. I need to kiss her.I haveto.

We lean into each other. When her lips meet mine, I stifle a groan.Fuuuck.

I slide my hands to her waist, pulling her flush against me as she presses up onto her toes, her fingers tangling in my hair. There’s no hesitation, no doubt—only heat and want, and I’m matching that fucking energy.

Her nails scrape against my scalp as she tilts her head, deepening the kiss. My hands tighten on her hips, and I steer her backward until her back hits the wall. She gasps into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to nip at her bottom lip, drawing a soft moan that sends a jolt of electricity through me.

“You’re tempting the devil,” I warn her, my voice rough with restraint.

“Maybe I hope he bites,” she whispers back, her voice breathless. Heated. She’s living up to her fucking name.

I don’t give her a chance to second-guess. I capture her mouth again, my hands sliding up her sides to anchor her in place. She arches into me, and I’m seconds away from losing all fucking control.

But this time, she pulls back, her lips swollen and her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her green eyes blaze as she meetsmy gaze. “Let’s get this clear. Just because I let you intimidate Shawn doesn’t mean I’m letting you boss me around.”

I smirk, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “We’ll see about that, little queen.”

Glancing at her phone, she groans. “Shit! I have to get to a shoot. I promised.”

“And I’ve got to check in with my brothers.” I pull away from her with reluctance. I know I need to leave. I have to make sure she learns to trust me, and right now, I’ve pushed far. “Tonight, Ember.”

Chapter 11

RODION

It’sa strange way to date someone, but here I am, outside her building, coffee in hand and mask in place.

Last night, I made my decision. My contact here in LA, a detective who works well enough for cash and discretion, dug up what I needed on Ember—and her fucking stepbrother, Shawn.

The way she flinched at his name, froze at his texts… I’d seen enough. The messages he’s been sending her?

Screw discretion. My brothers will get over it.

I’ll fucking kill him.

This morning, the texts from Rafail came in, each one sharper than the last.

Rafail

The Romanovs’ Gala next week. You must bring a woman, Rodion. Everyone is watching. Jesus. If only it were your wife.

I can’t focus on this, not yet. She barely knows me, definitely doesn’t trust me, and there’s no fucking way I’m taking anyone else.

So I table the conversation and mute our messages.

For now.

But god, what I wouldn’t want to do to make her an offer. An escape from that shitty apartment, from the reckless “starving artist” routine, wandering through alleys unarmed. She didn’t see the danger she courted.

Ember Steele. Fierce but blind to the way men looked at her.

The thought of Shawn ignites something dark in my chest. That bastard won’t touch her again.

She deserves a reckoning for her carelessness—walking around the city as if she weren’t a target, a temptation. If I had my way, I’d bend her over my knee for that alone. A good spanking to remind her who the hell she belongs to.

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