Page 68 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

She shakes her head, but her body betrays her. She’s breathing hard, melting into me, and I can feel her pulse pounding under my lips.

“I hate you,” she whispers again—but it’s broken now, not real.

“No,” I say again, fiercely. “You want to hate me, I get it. But you don’t.”

I release her wrists and pull her into me, hands in her hair, tugging gently until her mouth is tilted toward mine.

“Tell me again,” I whisper, brushing my lips across hers, “and look me in the eyes when you do.”

But she can’t. Her eyes well again, and a sob cracks through her throat.

And then she’s kissing me—like she’s punishing me and saving herself at the same time. It’s wild. Furious. Tongues and teeth. Fingernails in skin. I hoist her up, and her legs wrap around me instinctively, like she’s trying to climb inside me just to hide from how much she feels.

“I hate you,” she whispers again between kisses.

“Then hate me harder,” I growl. “But don’t stop touching me.”

She gasps, but I don’t let her go. I can’t.

“You want to hate me?” I growl, eyes locked on hers. “Fine. But don’t stand there and pretend like you didn’t want this.”

She twists, tries to pull free, but I hold her tighter.

“Don’t lie to me, Violet. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Her breath hitches. Her lips part. “I didn’t ask for any of this—”

“No,” I snap, “but you didn’t run either. Not when I kissed you. Not when I touched you. And not when you kissed me back so hard I thought I’d lose my fucking mind.”

Her eyes flash, but her body’s trembling. I see it. I feel it. She’s burning the same way I am.

“You say I ruined your life?” I snarl. “Maybe I did. Maybe I came in like a fucking storm. But don’t stand here and tell me you haven’t been riding that wave right beside me.”

Her silence is all the confirmation I need. I drop one of her wrists and slide my hand up to her jaw, fingers gripping the sides of her face.

“Yes, I’m obsessed,” I whisper. “You’re right. I am. But what the fuck do you call this, Violet? The way you look at me? The way you cling to me like you’re just as lost?”

She tries to speak, but no words come out. Just this wild, helpless look in her eyes—one I know all too well.

I kiss her again like I’m punishing her for every word she just screamed, like I’m trying to rewrite the way she says she hates me. I don’t believe her. Not when she kisses me like this. Not when her hands are pulling me closer, not pushing me away.

She tastes like fire, with something sweeter underneath.

I slide my hand into her hair, the other gripping her waist as I pin her back against the wall. She gasps into my mouth, and it only makes me more reckless.

Her breath is warm, unsteady, but I know the rhythm of her now. She melts into me—until suddenly, she doesn’t.

She stiffens. Pulls back. Something flickers in her eyes.

“Violet?” I murmur, voice low.

She blinks like she’s coming out of a trance. “Oh God.”

I freeze. “What?”

She presses a hand to her stomach, and her face goes pale in a way that makes my blood chill.

“I don’t feel good,” she whispers, backing away from me.