Page 95 of Stolen Empire
"Then let me." Her hands come up, gripping my shirt.
"Please. Let me finish it."
I look at her—really look at her.
The drugs are still in her system, making her reckless.
But underneath that, there's something else.
Determination.
Desperation.
A need to prove herself that goes beyond our deal.
She wants to prove herself to me for some ungodly fucking reason, and I hate that idea.
"Katya…"
"Okay?" she whimpers, but I just can't.
I won't let her put herself in danger again.
I stand, pulling her up with me.
She sways, and I catch her, steadying her.
Her skin is warm under my hands, her body still trembling.
"I hate you," she whispers.
"I know."
"I hate how much I need you."
"I know."
She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.
"And I hate that you're the only person who makes me feel safe."
I know she doesn't mean that at all.
And I don't like that she's still fighting me.
"I hate how much you've gotten under my skin," I admit. "I hate that I can't let you go."
Her breath catches.
Then she's kissing me, desperate and hungry.
I kiss her back, my hands tangling in her hair.
Her lips crash into mine like a fucking storm, all teeth and tongue and the bitter tang of whatever shit Daniil forced into her system.
I can’t pull back—hell, I don’t want to.
My fingers knot deeper in her hair, yanking her head back to angle her mouth under mine, devouring her like she’s the only thing keeping me from unraveling.
