Warm breath caresses my face, stroking over my nose, my cheeks, and then puffs against my lips.

“That’s a shame,” he states softly.

The darkness seems to shimmer around us. I stare hard, wishing I could see his face. Wishing I had more than just the sound of his voice to go on.

“It is?” I ask tentatively, hoping I’m mistaken and he’s not meaning what I think he’s meaning.

“Yes,” he says huskily, his voice deepening.

“H…h…how so?”

“Because I want you.”

I jerk as if he just hit me and feel a spike of desire slam into my core. He wants me? Why does that revelation both frighten and excite me?

God, I’m so fucked up.

The longer he presses against me, the more I’m physically responding to it. My nipples tighten and tingle against the press of his chest.

His hips lock against my hips and then my core clenches as I feel a hard bulge pressing against my mons.

“Please,” I groan, trying to arch away from him. Trying to escape the intense sensation. “Don—”

His mouth covers my mouth, smothering the rest of my plea.

I start to struggle now but it’s too little, too late. I’ve already allowed myself to be lured into the trap.

I try to twist my face away. I try to rip my wrists free from his grip. But the more I fight him, the more it seems to turn him on.

The more the snare tightens.

His huge body crushes me against the wall.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moans before his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

His tongue touches my tongue and all the little nerves in my body light up in response.

Why do I like this? Why do I want to pull him closer instead of pushing him away?

Is it because it’s been so long since I’ve been touched? Or is it because I can’t see him in the dark?

I don’t know. All I know is that I feel like I’ve been barely treading water and now I’m being pulled under the surface.

I’m drowning in sensation.

In his warmth. In his presence.

His mouth slants over my mouth, over and over. With each pull, with each suckle, I feel like I lose a little more of myself.

He’s breaking me down, kiss by kiss.

And before I know it, I’m kissing him back.

My tongue desperately seeks out his tongue. My body strains and stretches towards his body.

I arch and moan into his mouth.

He rolls his hips forward, his trapped erection grinding against my clit.

Logic, reason, and conscious thought are all lost, replaced by a need I’ve never felt with Ivan. My brain is being lulled into a false sense of security by the slow building throb.

It could all be merely a survival reflex but I can’t seem to stop.

After being so close to death, I just want to live.

Something buried deep inside of me wants this.

I have the strongest desire to be joined with him. To be beneath him.

“Amy,” he groans, and to hear him say my name like that makes me feel so strong, so powerful. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I shouldn’t. This is insane.

“Amy,” he growls when I don’t instantly obey.

And that growl, god, it does things to me.

Wicked, sinful things.

Andrew, he’s not a good man. I have no delusions about that. And what he’s doing to Abigail and me, there’s really no excuse for it.

But he wants me, and it feels so good to be wanted.

My knees shake and my arms ache in this stretched out position. If I had any sense, I’d try to get away…

Not wrap my legs around him. Not give in to the moment.

But fuck it, I’m living in this moment.

I could be dead tomorrow.

If this is my last night on Earth, at least I’ll be in the arms of a beautiful, dangerous man.

And if he’s ordered to kill me… well, maybe just maybe he’ll think twice about it.

I wrap my legs around his waist.

Releasing my wrists, his arms snake around my back. His hands grab my ass and he hefts me up. Then he spins us around and I’m grabbing him.

I cling to him as he carries me through the dark hall, into a dark room, and lowers me down on something soft.

Now that we’re in a bed, all bets seem to be off.

His hands grab at my dress, yanking it up and over my head. My hands grab at his shirt, my clumsy fingers fumbling with his buttons for a moment before I decide to just tear it open.

I hope that shirt was expensive.

With a chuckle, his hands slide behind me and he unsnaps my bra. Then his mouth covers my mouth, his kiss hungry and desperate as he pushes my bra down and cups my breasts with his big hands.

Groaning, I arch into his grip, squirming against the bed. All thoughts of removing the rest of his clothing forgotten.

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