Page 59 of Stalk Me

I push against him. “That’s the problem. I’m starting to believe you.”

My breath catches as those lethal fingers tangle in my hair, forcing my head. “Then stop fighting it.”

“I can’t.” But my voice wavers as his lips brush my neck. “This is Stockholm syndrome or?—”

“No.” He bites down on my pulse point, making me gasp. “This is what’s always been between us. You’ve known it since I first walked into your gallery.”

My hands grip his shoulders, meaning to push him away but instead pull him closer. “Nikolai...”

His hand slides under the shirt, finding bare skin. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

I try to resist, to maintain some semblance of control, but my body arches into his touch. “I... I can’t.”

His growl of satisfaction vibrates against my throat. “Because you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

And God help me, but I’m really starting to believe him.

I feel a surge of rebellion and wrench away from his grip, spinning to face him with my chin raised. “You can’t just decide these things for me. I’m not some possession you can lock away.”

“No?” His eyes flash dangerously. “Yet here you are, wearing my shirt, in my compound.”

“Because you drugged and kidnapped me!” I slam my palm against his chest. “I’m not your puppet, Nikolai.”

Instead of anger, a smile tugs at his lips. “There she is. My fierce little fighter.”

“Don’t patronize me.” But my breath catches as he cups my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip.

“Never.” His touch gentles, surprising me. “You challenge me in ways no one else dares. It’s what drew me to you.”

I try to maintain my glare, but something in his expression makes my heart stutter. “I hate how much I want you.”

“No, you don’t.” The gesture is startlingly gentle for a man like him—his forehead touching mine, sharing breath. “You hate how right this feels.”

I clutch his shirt. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect.” He brushes a kiss across my temple. “Even when you’re fighting me.”

“Especially then?” I ask.

“Especially then.” His arms wrap around me, and I melt into him despite everything. “Though I prefer when you surrender.”

“That’s not surrender.” I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze. “It’s a choice.”

Something flickers in those steel-gray depths—vulnerability, perhaps. His grip tightens, possessive yet protective. “My clever girl.”

The praise sends warmth blooming through my chest.

His lips capture mine, and my protest dies in my throat. The kiss is different from his usual demanding ones—softer, questioning. My hands unclench from his shirt, sliding up to his shoulders as he pulls me closer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs against my mouth.

My body responds before my mind can catch up, melting into him as his tongue traces my lower lip. I open for him with a sigh of surrender and relief. His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

The gentleness undoes me more than his usual dominance. I taste his restraint and feel the tremor in his fingers as they thread through my hair. This isn’t the calculated seduction I’ve come to expect. It’s something else.

My fingers curl against the nape of his neck, drawing a low sound from his throat. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw, each touch a whispered promise. I tilt my head, giving him better access as warmth pools in my belly.

“Nikolai,” I breathe, and his arms tighten around me.

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