Page 33 of Forbidden Empire

He laughed.

Not just a regular laugh, either.

It was this dark, low sound, and I could feel it, the way our bodies were mashed together. His eyes looked a little bit insane and animal hungry.

“Bastard!” I jerked and twisted, but he just held on tighter, his whole body pressed against mine.

“Mine.”

The friction was so electric, I had to bite back a moan.

“Never—” I tried to say, but it came out as a snarl.

He didn’t care. He just kissed me. Hard. Like teeth and tongue and zero patience.

It was more like a fight than anything romantic, and he was winning.

I gasped, which was an engraved invitation for him to shove his tongue into my mouth. He went for it, rough and greedy.

And yeah.

I wanted to resist. I tried to claw his face off, or at least slap him. Would’ve tried if he wasn’t pinning my wrists above my head.

I wanted to yell. Or scream. Or call him something even worse than bastard.

But all I could think about was his mouth. His tongue. And how much I wanted him, no matter how much I told myself I didn’t.

My resolve started to slip. I whimpered into his mouth.

He knew.

God, he knew.

He could feel me teetering on the edge, ready to melt into him. If he pushed just a little more, my thighs would open wider and I’d let him in—no defenses, no hiding—just the dark, desperate want clawing at my insides.

And he saw it. I hated that he saw it. Hated it with every cell in my body, but I couldn’t deny it.

No turning back now.

There was nothing I could do to stop the need that was bubbling up and spilling over, wild and uncontrollable, something with teeth and claws, something shadowy and fierce and impossible to ignore.

His kiss got rougher, deeper. My mouth went slack. I let him in, the fight draining out of me fast.

He tore his mouth from mine, eyes burning, searching my face like he had to confirm it.

Was he looking for a sign? Did he see that I wanted him just as bad? Had I given myself away already?

He must’ve found what he was looking for, because just like that, his mouth crashed back onto mine. This time, he was hungry. Confident. No hesitation.

Fuck.

The thing between us wasn’t just a flicker anymore—it was wildfire, all heat and chaos and no room to breathe. I could barely gasp for air, let alone think straight.

Clarity? Gone.

All I could do was hang on and try not to get burned alive.

With every kiss, he dragged up shit I’d spent years shoving down. Wanting Aidon had never been safe. We’d done this before, twisted up together, and it never led anywhere good.