Page 41 of Savage Crown

I move before I can think about it, one hand snapping out, gripping her waist, yanking her flush against me. My other hand cups the side of her face, fingers threading through the wild strands of her hair, tilting her head up.

She doesn’t resist.

She leans into me.

That’s the fucking breaking point.

I crush my mouth against hers, claiming, devouring.

Seraphina burns.

I feel the fight in her, the sharp gasp swallowed by my lips, the way her nails dig into my arms, dragging me closer.

She meets me head-on, without hesitation, without fear.

It’s a battle, all teeth and heat and the war we’ve been fighting since the moment we met.

I don’t kiss her like a man offering affection.

I kiss her like a man claiming something he has no right to want.

Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling, clawing, refusing to let me set the pace. She’s not passive in this.

She’s not waiting to be wanted.

She’s taking as much as she’s giving.

And fuck, it undoes me.

I press her back against the corner of my desk, caging her in, trapping her beneath me.

She gasps into my mouth, not in protest, but in something raw and reckless.

I drink it in.

I lose myself in it.

And then—her teeth graze my lower lip.

Something snaps.

I grab her wrists, pinning them above her head, forcing her still, forcing her to feel the full weight of what she’s doing to me.

Her breath stutters.

Not out of fear.

Out of power.

She knows exactly what she’s done.

Her gaze locks onto mine, lips swollen, chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths.

"Let go," she murmurs.

I don’t.

I can’t.

---