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Her eyes widen in horror, guilt-ridden. “Nikolai… Is he okay?”
“No. Thanks to you! And it is bold of you to ask when it was your actions that put him in danger.” Anger boils within me. “Youexposed us.Youbrought Volkov and his men back here.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Her jaw juts out. “You forced me to stay here. Did you think I wasn’t going to get out of here eventually? If you’d just let me get back to town without making such a fucking fuss, I would have—”
“You would have brought trouble regardless. I may not have known it then, but do you think I do not know who you are now?Whatyou are?” Fury builds as I think of all the lies. All the secrets she’s hidden. “You are a fucking thief, Scarlett Jones.” I sneer the words. But maybe part of my anger is aimed at myself for being so goddamned stupid.
How did I not see it?
“Look who’s talking,” she snaps back. “You’re no angel either, Anton Ulianov. Don’t think I know what you’ve done. The blood on your hands.” She scoffs. “Hell, there’s more than blood. You’re a cold-blooded killer. A mass-fucking-murderer!”
Cold rage comes over me.
“Then you should know better than to fuck with me, Scarlett,” I growl, inches from her face. The hand that had been cupping her cheek now threads into her hair, fingers twisting until her eyes narrow. Pain flickers within them. But she’s hiding it from me. As if it’ll make me stop. I tug harder until her head is pulled back, her face tilted up to me.
“Maybe I’m not afraid of you.” Her words are a challenge, her gaze defiant. She’s hissing through gritted teeth.
And then the tension between us snaps.
With a sudden lurch forward, my lips crash onto hers in a brutal, frenzied kiss – a battle for dominance neither of us wants to lose. I draw the breath from her, holding her face in one hand to keep her from pulling away. She growls low in her throat, nails raking across my cheek as her fingers clasp my hair while I plunder her mouth. I expect some sort of resistance. A slap or more nails. I wait for her to hit me. She doesn’t, though. She presses against me, the soft flesh of her breasts flattening against my chest.
She bites my lip, drawing blood, but it only fuels the passion between us. I pull back and chuckle, flicking the tip of my tongue out to catch a stray drop of blood.
“My littlezaykahas teeth.” My body is suddenly tight with need, wanting to burst.
“I’m not your little anything! I want nothing to do with you!” Her eyes blaze as she glares back at me.
“Really?” I nip her lower lip. “Then why are you here?”
“You…you know why.” Her breath shudders as I graze my teeth along her jawline. “Just…I needed my stuff. The stone… Nothing else.” Her eyes flash at me. There’s anger there. But more. Something she can’t deny. Lust. And it mirrors my own. Sliding my hand along her neck, I grip her jaw in my hand, feeling her throat move as she swallows. I tighten my grip.
“Prove it.” My challenge hangs between us, heavy with lust and power. I can feel her stiffen as she feels my fingers curl further around her neck. The temptation to squeeze is almost as strong as the need to fuck reason into her.
You’re mine!
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but there’s no way I’ll say them. Her chest heaves as she fights for air, but my hand on her throat isn’t scaring her. The effect is the opposite. Heat blazes in her eyes, and it’s met by a tightening in my cock.
“Fuck you!” she chokes out. Her hands fist in my shirt, and before I realize what she’s planning, she yanks me to her. Our lips collide again, harder this time, teeth clashing.
“Fuck you too,” I growl against her mouth as we finally come up for air again. My hand is off her throat now, and her breath is coming hard, the invitation in her eyes unmistakable as she stares up at me with kiss-swollen lips. I claim them yet again, then grab her waist, hoisting her up against me. She wraps her legs around me, not breaking the kiss. It’s an assault more than anything, her fire scalding me. The heat of her body sears through my clothes, stoking the fire within me.
Carrying her to the bed, I toss her onto the mattress. She lands with a bounce, but the defiant glint in her eyes remains. Leaning forward and ripping her shirt open, buttons fly as I expose her flushed skin.
“Still hot for me,zayka?Is that why you really came back?” I taunt as I see her pebbled nipples. I catch her wrist a moment before her palm meets my face, but I’m not fast enough to dodge the foot that collides with my belly. I barely blink at the contact. I’ve taken more. Even now, I’m aware of the bandaged hole in my thigh – though it burns less than my need for this woman.
“You asshole!” she spits.
Grabbing the foot that kicked me, I give a quick twist and flip her over onto her belly. She squeals as I tug her pants past her hips and my hand connects with her luscious ass.
“Bastard!” she yells as I slap her again, the crack ringing out. She can call me all she wants. It’s worth every insult, because I’m rewarded by the sight of a red handprint on creamy flesh and a glimpse of wet pussy from between her splayed thighs.
“Call me that again,” I tell her, stroking my hand over her hot skin. It’s a deceptively gentle gesture, and I’m sure that she knows it. It doesn’t stop her from trying her luck though.
“Bastard,” she mutters again, then shrieks as I spank her once more. But spanking is not what I have in mind tonight. What I need is far more primal. When she twists beneath me, I let her roll over, using the move to drag her pants down as she lands on her back. For a second, we’re motionless, apart from our ragged breathing as our eyes lock. And then I’ve yanked her shoes off and gotten her pants past her feet.
Suddenly, she matches my fervor, tearing at my clothes until we’re both stripped bare, our bodies aching for contact. I loom over her, taking in the sight of her tantalizing flesh, the heaving of her chest. Her eyes dare me to continue, and I do.
I reach out, my hands rough against her softness as I grab her shoulders and pull her up to meet me. She moans as my hands wander across her body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin.
