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“Tell me, is this how you handle all your failures? Curl up and pretend the world doesn't exist?” I tap the bedframe. “I thought you were stronger than that.”

The blankets fly back as she sits up, hair wild around her face. “Fuck you.”

“There she is.” I cross my arms. “I was starting to think I'd broken that spirit of yours.”

“You wish.” She throws her legs over the side of the bed, facing me with renewed defiance. “Is that what you want? To break me?”

I hold her gaze, letting her see the challenge there. “I want to see what you're really made of, Katarina. So far, I'm not impressed.”

Her jaw clenches as she stands, drawing herself to full height. The fire is back in her eyes, burning away that empty look. “Then you're not paying attention.”

That's better. The fight in her voice stirs something in my blood. This is the woman I've been watching, the one who refuses to back down.

“Prove it,” I say.

Her lips crash against mine before I can react. The kiss blazes with fury and challenge, nothing like her seduction from before. My brain short-circuits as her fingers dig into my shoulders, pulling me closer.

Fuck. This isn't what I expected. I meant to provoke her anger, her fight—not this.

But my body responds instantly, betraying every shred of control I've built. My hands grip her waist, crushing her against me as I return the kiss with equal intensity. She tastes like fire and defiance.

The softness of her body contrasts with the aggressive way she bites my lower lip. I growl into her mouth, one hand sliding up to tangle in her hair. She's using this to prove a point, to show she's not broken, but I'm already lost in her.

This is dangerous. This is exactly what I shouldn't be doing. But her tongue slides against mine, and rational thought dissolves into pure sensation.

My tactical mind tries to catalog the threat—her hands on my chest, her body pressed close enough to attempt a knee strike or grab for my weapons. But all I can focus on is the way she arches into me, the small sound she makes when I tighten my grip on her hair.

I've miscalculated badly. Thought I could push her back to that fiery defiance without consequences. Now I'm drowning in her, every careful boundary crumbling under the onslaught of her kiss.

I tear my mouth from hers, breathing ragged. We're both a mess of tangled hair and flushed skin, and her lips are red and swollen from my kisses. Her eyes are wild, but she doesn't look away.

I take a half-step back, desperately needing space to get my head on straight. “Get on the bed.” My voice comes out rougher than intended, sending a shiver down her spine.

She raises an eyebrow, a spark of challenge in her eyes. “I thought you wanted me to fight.”

“Get on the fucking bed, Katarina.”

She holds my gaze for a long moment, that spark in her eyes daring me to make her. Then she turns and walks toward the bed, hips swaying. A shaft of midday light from the window catches her in profile, highlighting the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips.

Goose bumps rise on my skin as she climbs onto the bed, a lioness in my den. Damn, but she's beautiful like this, all wild and uncompromising. My fingers tighten on the edge of the nightstand, and I fight the urge to cross the room in three strides and take her hard, right there.

No. Slow. I want to erase the memory of yesterday's roughness with decadent pleasure. I need to consume her, inch by inch, until that haunted look in her eyes is replaced by heat and need.

As if reading my mind, she settles back against the pillows, arms folded beneath her head. Her posture dares me to take my time, but there's an undercurrent of vulnerability in her eyes that makes my breath catch.

Taking a steadying breath, I close the distance between us.

Lowering myself to my knees, I run a hand up her calf, watching as her breath hitches. She's not expecting this.

I hook my finger into the waistband of her leggings and slowly pull them down to expose a hint of smooth skin. Hermuscles contract under my touch, betraying her anticipation. She says nothing and does nothing to encourage or deter me.

I pause, running a thumb along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She shivers, and the faint scent of her desire reaches me. My mouth waters.

Slowly, I trail kisses along her leg, watching her face for any sign of reaction. Her eyelids grow heavy, her lips parting slightly as I nuzzle the delicate skin behind her knee.

When I finally reach the junction of her thighs, she tenses. I look up, meeting her eyes. Her breath comes in short gasps as she watches me hover over her most sensitive spot.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” My words are half a lie because I'm not sure I can.