Page 39 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
“It means I assumed you’d break down during dinner. That you’d maybe even shed a tear before ever willingly firing a gun.”
My words seem to grate her immediately, and her voice almost lashes at me. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in any of it. I’m surviving.”
My lips pull. “You’re doing more than that, and you know it.”
“Don’t romanticize this. Just because you taught me how to shoot a gun doesn’t mean I’m any less trapped.”
She may have a point, but I move closer and soften my tone by a touch. “But you’re not running. You’re looking at me like you’re almost brave.”
Silence lingers between us, and I know even she feels the crackling between us. Her eyes stay connected with mine, and she doesn’t look afraid.
“I should hate you,” Lily says quietly as if trying to convince herself then and there.
“You should.”
She remains in place, not flinching as I drift closer. “I never should’ve gone home with you that night. I never should’ve touched you.”
“Right again, sweetheart.”
Still, she doesn’t pull back or recoil like any sane person would. Instead, she stays there, almost like I’ve corrupted her.
This time, she takes a subtle step closer until she’s just shy of my chest.
There’s a fine line between us, and I let her decide if she wants to cross it.
She reaches for the front of my button-down, pulls me the rest of the distance, and then her lips are on mine.
I’m almost caught off guard by the fierceness of the kiss. It isn’t soft or tender, but instead, there’s an anger to it. It’s a tangle of confusion and lust, like everything has finally boiled over.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, melding my lips with hers.
She kisses me like she has every intention of hurting me, and I kiss her like she belongs entirely to me. Because she does.
My fingers creep closer to the back of her head, slipping through her hair to cradle her while we both let go of everything we’ve been hiding for too long.
She eventually breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against my lips, “I still hate you…”
Not arguing, I let my nose brush against hers, savoring her closeness. “Keep going and hate me tomorrow instead.”
We both pause as if weighing the risks at the same time.
But in a mutual bid to say to hell with it, we surge forward, giving in to the fire neither of us can ignore any longer.
Chapter 13 - Lily
I surprise even myself while I follow his lips like my life depends on it.
I hate him…I know I do. I should hate him even more. But at this moment, while feeling the heat behind his movements and the eagerness in his hold, I can’t pull away.
No. Giving in is the only way to get rid of this disdain that has built up. I need to put this anger and confusion somewhere, even if it’s indulgent and the very last thing I should be doing.
Melding our lips together with renewed ferocity, I feel the vibration from his appeased groan, along with his fingers tightening in my hair and the presence of the other hand on my back.
Mikhail pulls me against his body, not hiding just how hard he is already. That confirmation sends a shiver rippling up my spine, and it only spurs me on further.
I shouldn’t be doing this…I shouldn’t enjoy the way his tongue parts my lips, exploring my mouth even deeper. I should push him back for letting his hand roam over my ass before squeezing it, only to slide his fingers beneath my dress and feel my flesh without barriers.
I should scream at him for everything, but the moment his fingertips tease over my clothed core from behind, it’s like every defensive I put up crumbles at once. My breath catches in the kiss, and I shiver.
