Page 24 of Hers to Control

Yeah, my cock likes what I see.

Instead of answering her question, I give her a slow perusal. “I haven’t checked you for injuries yet.” The idea of her having gotten so much as a scratch from her altercation with Adrik Tsepov’s men has my blood boiling all of a sudden.

I stalk towards her. “Take off your clothes.”

“Hell no.” Her defiance only turns me on more.

This woman can take down several men on her own, and hell if I don’t want her to take me down, too.

“If you don’t take it off, I will.”

“The fuck you will.”

“Try to stop me.” I close the distance between us, reaching for her.

She reacts the way I knew she would, switching into fight mode. I grip her wrist before she can fully react, our faces inches apart.

Her free hand pushes against my chest, attempting to create some distance. “Get your hands off me,” she snarls.

I tighten my hold, a smirk playing on my lips. “Or what? You’re going to fight me off, just like you did with those Russians?” My cock twitches at the prospect.

Mia glares at me, and in a sudden move, she brings her knee up, aiming for my balls. I dodge it, although not by much, still holding onto her wrist. Our bodies press against each other, and the anger I felt a moment earlier is replaced by lust.

“You’re insane if you think I’ll let you undress me,” she hisses, her breath brushing against my face.

My lips curl into a wicked grin. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

With that, I release her wrist, only to grab the hem of her shirt. She tenses, ready to resist.

I knew she would. She’s proved that she’s got claws, but then something shifts. The defiance in her gaze transforms into a different heat. My fingers brush against her skin as I pull her shirt up, exposing a glimpse of the curve of her waist.

Mia’s eyes meet mine, a mix of fury and something else.

Desire.

Hell yes.

I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear. “You can keep fighting me, Mia, or you can give in.”

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she doesn’t resist as I continue to peel off her shirt.

The cabin is still filled with the aroma of cooking pasta and simmering sauce, but I’m in the mood for something else now.

Pulling her against me, I grab her ass and lift her onto the kitchen counter. I reach over and turn off the heat of the stove.

The pasta will be ruined, but I don’t give a fuck. At least now we won’t have to deal with the fire alarm.

I don’t like interruptions.

Mia still looks ready to attack, but she doesn’t. She sits there, letting me look at her. Her black bra fits her personality. Plain and practical, but the swell of her small breasts is hotter than any fancy lingerie could ever be.

Her tits are almost enough to distract me from the rest of her, but when I look the rest of her body over, my anger snaps back into existence.

There is a bruise the size of an orange forming on her lower belly. Right above where my unborn child is growing inside of her.

I push her shoulders back, forcing her to lie down.

After a second of resistance, she complies. I don’t doubt she sees the killer I am in my eyes right now, because all I can think about is vengeance.

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