Page 52 of Hunted to the Altar
I moaned against his mouth, my fingers digging into his shoulders, and he growled in response, his hands moving down to grip my thighs. "Samuel, you're hurt?—"
"I don’t care," he rasped, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath uneven. "You think I could feel anything other than you right now?" His lips brushed over mine again, teasing, tormenting. "You think a bullet graze is enough to keep me from claiming what’s mine?"
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. "I—I don’t want to hurt you."
His thumb traced my bottom lip, his gaze dark, filled with something that stole the air from my lungs. "The only way you could ever hurt me, Nina, is by pulling away."
I exhaled sharply, my resolve breaking. I leaned in, kissinghim again, softer this time, but no less intense. It was an unspoken promise, a vow neither of us had to say aloud. His grip on me eased, shifting from urgency to reverence, as if he was savoring every second, every touch.
His lips trailed down my jaw, my throat, his breath searing against my skin. "Mine," he whispered against my collarbone, and I quivered, knowing there was no turning back from this moment.
"Yours," I breathed, accepting the truth that had been there all along.
And as he kissed me again, slow and deep, I knew this was where I belonged.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Samuel
The quiet afterthe storm was always the hardest part. The aftermath, when the blood had been cleaned, and the bodies removed, left a stillness that felt unnatural, as if the world itself was holding its breath. I stood in the penthouse, the dim light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the polished floors. The tension in the air was palpable, a thick, suffocating weight that pressed against my chest. Nina was upstairs. I could feel her presence like a constant hum, pulling at my attention even as I tried to focus on the lingering threats outside these walls.
She was avoiding me. Again. It was almost amusing how predictable she’d become. After everything we’d been through in the past twenty-four hours, I’d thought she might finally see reason. But no, her resilience was still there, burning bright behind those wide, haunted eyes. It was infuriating. And intoxicating.
I made my way to the liquor cabinet, pouringmyself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light, reminding me of the flames that seemed to ignite in Nina’s gaze every time she looked at me. Fear and fury, coiled so tightly together that they were almost indistinguishable. Almost. But I knew better. I knew which one she felt more keenly.
Fear. It was always fear.
I’d seen it last night when she’d flinched at the sight of the blood on my hands. I’d felt it in the trembling of her fingers when I’d grabbed her to steady her. She’d called me a monster, and she wasn’t wrong. But what she didn’t understand, what she couldn’t understand, was that the monster she feared was the only thing keeping her alive.
The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, a welcome distraction from the fire raging inside me. I’d built my life on control, on order. Every move, every decision, was calculated, precise. But Nina… She was chaos incarnate. A storm I couldn’t predict, couldn’t tame. And yet, I couldn’t look away.
I set the glass down, the clink of crystal against wood breaking the silence. My eyes drifted to the staircase, and before I could think better of it, I was moving. My footsteps were quiet, measured, as I ascended the stairs. I didn’t need to announce my presence. She always knew when I was near.
When I reached her door, I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. The urge to barge in, to remind her exactly who was in control, was strong. But I resisted. Instead, I knocked, the sound sharp and deliberate.
“Come in.” Her voice came, soft and hesitant.
I opened the door, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight against the fading light outside. Nina sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her gaze met mine, defiant as ever, but I could see the cracks in her armor. The faint tremor in her hands, the way her shoulders tensed as if bracing for a blow. She was scared, and she hated it.
“We need to talk,” I said, keeping my voice calm, measured.
Her brow furrowed, and she looked away. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”
I crossed the room, closing the distance between us. She didn’t flinch, but I could see the way her body stiffened as I drew closer. I stopped a few feet away, giving her just enough space to feel like she had some semblance of control.
“This situation we’re in,” I said, gesturing between us. “It’s not sustainable. You know that as well as I do.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t respond. I took that as an opportunity to continue.
“You don’t trust me,” I said. “And I don’t blame you. But if we’re going to survive this, we need to find some common ground.”
Her gaze snapped back to mine, fire flashing in her eyes. “Survive this? You mean survive you?”
I smirked, tilting my head. “I’m not your biggest threat, Nina. The men outside, the ones who want to use you to get to me… They’re the ones you should be afraid of.”
“You don’t think I’m already afraid?” she snapped, her voice rising. “I’m terrified! Every moment I’m here I feel like I’m walking on a razor’s edge. And you…you just keep pushing me closer to the edge.”
Her outburst didn’t faze me. If anything, it only fueled the fire inside me. She was so alive, even in her fear. So fierce.
