Page 52 of Claimed In Darkness

Her mouth parts slightly, words unsaid pressing against her tongue.

I see the exact moment she realizes the truth.

That I am right.

She should have escaped.

Instead, she chose to stay.

Her fingers tighten against my chest, not in defiance, not in anger—but in something raw, something unspoken, something both of us don’t want to explore.

She moves before I do.

She rises onto her toes, closing the distance between us in a single breath, her lips crashing against mine in a kiss that tastes like battle.

It’s not soft.

It’s not gentle.

It is a weapon.

Her teeth graze my bottom lip, a silent challenge, a demand that I answer with equal force.

I press her into the wall, one hand tangling in her hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp.

The sound makes something inside me snap.

I deepen the kiss, taking everything she’s giving, stealing everything she doesn’t realize she’s offering.

Her body is fire and defiance, silk and fucking sin, her pulse hammering beneath my fingers, the fight still roaring in her veins even as she kisses me back.

Just as suddenly, she breaks away.

Her chest heaves, lips swollen, eyes wild and furious.

Her breath is hot against my mouth.

"That," she rasps, "was a mistake."

I drag my thumb across her lower lip, watching the way she doesn’t pull away.

"You’ll make it again."

She stiffens, her eyes blazing with hate. She doesn’t like this truth.

I can see it, can taste it still lingering in the space between us.

It will be best if she leaves, but she remains on the spot.

She just stands there, breathing heavily, still so close.

Waiting.

For what?

For me to do it again?

For her to?

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