Page 73 of Shatter Me

“No.” His lips rest near mine. “You hate that you can’t control it.”

His words hit too close to home. I want to argue and counter his assessment, but the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze makes it impossible to think straight.

“You don’t get to analyze me,” I manage, but my voice lacks conviction.

“I don’t need to.” His fingers thread through my hair, sending waves of unease through me. “Everything about you screams defiance, yetyou’re pressing closer.”

“I’m not—” But I am. My hands have somehow found their way to his chest, gripping his perfectly tailored shirt.

“Still lying to yourself?” His breath fans across my lips. “That’s not very professional of you, Ms. Blackwood.”

“And this is?” The words come out breathy, betraying my arousal.

“No.” His other hand slides to my lower back. “This is something else entirely.”

I hold my position, refusing to close the final distance between us. If he wants this, he’ll have to take it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cave first.

He reads my silent challenge. For a moment, we’re locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to surrender.

Then his mouth crashes into mine, and everything else falls away. His kiss is demanding and possessive, breaking through my defenses like they’re made of paper. His tongue sweeps inside, claiming every inch, and I match his intensity, pouring all my frustration and desire into the kiss.

His kiss makes my knees weak, but I refuse to let him win so easily. I tear my mouth away, chest heaving.

“This doesn’t change anything.” My hands stay fisted in his shirt, betraying my words. “You lied to me, Dmitri.”

“I never lied.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “I simply didn’t reveal everything.”

“Same thing.” I jerk back, putting space between us. “You let me fall into bed with you, knowing what kind of danger surrounded you. Knowing what your family does.”

“And if I had told you the truth from the start?” His gaze fixes on me. “Would you have given me a chance?”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.” Heat floods my cheeks. “You drew me into this mess without giving me a choice. Made me a target.”

“You were already involved the moment you caught my attention.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I shove at his chest. “You could have walked away. Could have left me in my nice, safe museum bubble where the biggest threat was budget cuts and demanding donors.”

“Is that genuinely what you want?” His fingers linger on my neck. “To head back to your unexciting life?”

“I want—” My voice catches as his fingers trace my collarbone. “I want to have known what I was getting into. Who I was getting into bed with.”

“You know who I am.” His touch burns through my skin. “And you’re still here.”

“Because I’m an idiot.” The words come out breathier than intended.

“No.” He steps closer, backing me against the wall. “Because despite everything, you want this as much as I do.”

His words pierce through my defenses, and I hate that he’s right. Ever since that first night, he’s been under my skin, consuming my thoughts even when I’m furious at him. My body remembers every touch, every kiss, every moment of pleasure he’s given me.

“I hate you,” I breathe against his mouth, but my hands slide up his chest.

“No, you don’t.” His lips brush mine. “You hate how much you want me.”

The kiss deepens, and I melt into him despite my anger. His hands cup my face with surprising tenderness, thumbs stroking my cheeks. The gentleness in his touch contrasts sharply with the dangerous man I now know him to be.

He lifts me onto my desk, scattering papers to the floor. His mouth trails down my neck, and I arch into him, fingers threading through his perfectly styled hair.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs against my skin. “Let me prove how much you mean to me.”

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