Page 34 of The Enemy's Defector
I shook my head, warring with the need to shake her. “I don’t fucking care.”
“Look, I can’t help you. I’m useless to you.”
What?“The fuck you are.”
“I don’t know if Anton was behind this by himself or not. But you don’t need me.”
I slammed my fist on the dash. “Says who?”
“And you’ve made it clear that you don’t want me.”
My jaw dropped. “How the hell do you figure that?” Did she already forget about our night together? Things were tense between us in the safehouse. I wouldn’t deny that. But shecouldn’t hold it against me. So much had happened too soon, and I had to process how to approach it. Maybe I was too calculating and serious as I recovered, but then again, she wasn’t too cozy with me either, like she was hiding something.
“You don’t want me,” she repeated as she parked at the building I’d given her the coordinates for. The underground parking space was empty, and I was glad no one would witness us getting out of the car and entering the building. I wasn’t in the mood to scope my surroundings and check for danger. I was too riled up and focused on her and this bullshit she was saying.
“You hate me,” she added as she reached for the door handle.
I shook my head, furious that she’d made such a fucked-up assumption like that. Grabbing her hand, I hauled her toward the door with me. She ran to keep up with me, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t. She’d pushed me and goaded me too far.
She needed to get it into her head that I wanted her so damn badly I couldn’t breathe right when she was near. She had to understand that one night would never be enough to satisfy me.
“Just let me go, Nik,” she said when I dragged her into the hallway to the old, empty building. “You can hate me somewhere else and I’ll start a life somewhere far from you so I’m not an obstacle to your getting back to your family and being happy with them.”
Reaching a bare bedroom, the mattress uncovered and plain, I shoved her until she fell back onto it. She set her hands behind her to catch her fall, but I was right there, looming over her and cupping her jaw.
“I don’t hate you,” I bit out, snarling and breathing hotly through my nostrils as I tried to banish the thought of not seeing her ever again.
I lowered my hand toward her neck, easing my fingers over her soft skin. The redness was gone from when that fucker inmy torture room had tried to kill her. Feeling the steady and fast tempo of her pulse beneath my fingertips, I felt my dick harden.
She was excited, not scared. I saw the difference in her brilliant blue eyes shining at me. She was paying attention to me, to how close I was, not this bullshit about separating and going our own ways.
As I squeezed slightly, reveling in how much this chokehold could turn her on, I leaned lower until my lips were inches from hers.
“I hate that I want you.”
She narrowed her eyes, that telltale show of fire that normally meant she wanted to lash out and argue with me. This time, I didn’t let her. I loved when she fought with me. That was how toxic we were. Bickering and arguing were the ultimate turn-on between us, the escalation of high emotions that grew and intensified until we both snapped and exploded.
I wasn’t in the mood to hear her deny that I wanted her. I showed her. Slamming my mouth against hers while forcing her chin up, I kept my hold on her neck as I devoured her sweet lips. Her sassy mouth. That addictive pull she always maintained over me.
Pushing her down onto the bed, I kissed her with hunger and greed. I tasted her mouth, sliding my tongue between her lips until I could claim her as I pleased. And when she moaned, raising her hands to clutch the front of my shirt and hold me close, my control snapped.
Her submission was that potent. The force behind her kissing me back just as desperately was all I needed to know she wanted the same thing that was on my mind. The thing that had no business being on my mind when I should’ve been focusing on surviving and protecting my family.
“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my whole fucking life,” I growled, grabbing her skirt and shoving it up as I kneeled between her legs.
Still, I kept my hand on her neck, not choking her but applying pressure so she could feel the strength behind my desire.
Arching up to kiss me, she then bucked her hips to help me tug her panties down. Then under my lips again, she kissed me deep and sucked on my tongue. Every stroke of her hands felt like a firebrand. Each time she reached for my pants to get my dick free was an extra instance of impatience.
“I want you, Katerina,” I snarled at her, still holding on to the anger that she’d think otherwise. That not wanting her could ever be an option. She drugged me. She ensnared me. And I was sick of feeling torn between wanting her with every cell in my body and knowing I was supposed to keep my distance because she was a Kozlov.
“I can’t fucking stop wanting you.” After that gritty admission, one of total honesty and vulnerability, I shoved my pants down with my boxers. Too many garments remained as layers between us. I had yet to see her tits, her silky, smooth skin, all of her. We were both too frantic to reunite like this, clumsy and hurried. There was nothing elegant about how I rammed my thigh against hers to force her to part for me. There wasn’t any bit of delicacy as I notched my dick to her slick entrance.
She gasped, and I squeezed her neck harder, so driven to have her and reclaim her like this that I couldn’t hold back at all.
Thrusting into her in one long, hard push, I was seated inside her pussy. Those smooth, tight walls of her muscles spread and stretched to let me in. All the way to the hilt, I was inside her. So deep. So snug.
I closed my eyes for a millisecond, tormented by how damn good it felt to finally be back in her cunt. To let her suck me in deep and clench around me. To hear her moaning and whimpering in need for me to pummel her with my cock.
