Page 75 of Forbidden Empire
I shook my head and exhaled hard. The whole mess inside me—the worries, the anger, the urge to shake her, hug her, lock her away.
All of it started to drain out, like maybe I remembered it didn’t matter. She thought she knew everything. And maybe, in her mind, she did. It wouldn’t matter how much I argued or yelled, Esme Theodorus would always do what she wanted.
Endless battle of wills. Tiring as hell.
I let my forehead fall against hers and exhaled a long sigh.
She froze. Her body was still, like a deer caught cold in headlights.
She probably figured all I had left was rage. Then, her shoulders dropped. She inhaled a shaky breath.
I took her face, making sure to remain gentle and careful of the fresh bruises, the swelling, the angry red cuts.
Rhea was going to pay for every single mark on Esme. That much was certain.
I ran my thumb over the cut on her cheek and shook my head again.
“I almost lost you,” I said. “But you’re mine, Esme.”
She melted beneath my touch, caving in, pressing closer, letting go.
Something in me snapped, wide open, right there, all raw and exposed by her softness.
My thing for Esme went deep. Way deeper than I liked. I had no clue what to do about it, but just for a second, I stopped fighting it. I let it hit me.
All of it.
My lips crashed into hers, hungry.
The heat of it slammed into me. There was nothing soft about it.
It soared through us, all that we wanted, like a freight train. By the time our mouths met, there was no space for tenderness, only gasping breaths, raw and jagged.
The kiss turned frantic, desperate, alive, like it was the only thing left in the world. Underneath, the anger festered, simmered, just hidden under the push and pull of our lips.
I tore my mouth from hers, chest heaving, pulse roaring in my ears.
Her eyes, wild and dark, locked onto mine, pupils blown wide.
There was something electric simmering between us, something nameless and hungry, and it threatened to swallow both of us whole.
My fingers gripped her hips, hard, maybe hard enough to bruise, but I couldn't let go.
"Fuck this," I stated. My hands shook against her skin. "Fuck the games. Fuck the lies."
She arched an eyebrow, lips curling into that maddening, defiant smirk even now, even as her mouth was red and swollen from how hard I'd kissed her.
She was daring me, always daring me.
My blood pounded hot as I crashed my mouth onto hers, teeth clashing, her intoxicating taste on my tongue.
She bit back, nails raking down my neck, and I hissed, the sound torn from somewhere deep.
I broke away, gasping, lungs burning.
"I can't fucking sleep. Can't think. Can't breathe when you're not—" I couldn't finish, because she rolled her hips against mine, silencing me with that single motion.
With a surge, I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist, as if she'd always belonged there.
