Page 68 of Unhinged

I take my time breaking her apart—holding her hands down, licking her nipples, dragging my teeth over her skin. Savoring every gasp, every whimper, every desperate push against me.

She slaps at me when I let her go for even one second, and I let her come undone before I grab her hair, yank her head back, and bite her neck.

She groans, shaking, panting, her hands clawing at me.

I welcome it.

Just when she looks like she got her way, I roll onto my back and pull her on top of me.

"Ride me."

I slap her ass hard—until she squeals, until my handprint blooms on her naked skin.

She looks at me like she’s won.

And maybe she has.

I don’t just want her.

I need her.

"You keep fucking pushing me," I growl, my voice barely holding together. "Do you really wanna see what happens when I stop holding back?"

Her lips part, a slow smirk curving at the edges.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

My little ghost. Just a shimmer of a person in front of me—untouchable, elusive, a fucking witch.

"That’s the thing, Matvei," she whispers. Mocking. Inviting. "I don’t think you want to hold back, do you?"

My grip tightens in warning.

But her gaze holds mine.

My mouth crashes against hers.

This is war.

Brutal. Claiming.

She’s never been the kind of woman to yield—so she bites back.

Her nails rake down my arm, leaving angry, red welts in their wake.

I flip her back over on the bed, my body caging hers. She knees me and gets seconds of leverage before I push her down again, my hand wrapping around her throat.

The mattress tips beneath us.

She looks alive.

Her eyes alight, her grin wicked.

"You like this," I murmur. "Maybe I should punish you."

Her eyes burn into mine, my control hanging by a thread.

"Be careful what you fucking tempt me with, you little witch."

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