Page 95 of Stolen Empire

"Then let me." Her hands come up, gripping my shirt.

"Please. Let me finish it."

I look at her—really look at her.

The drugs are still in her system, making her reckless.

But underneath that, there's something else.

Determination.

Desperation.

A need to prove herself that goes beyond our deal.

She wants to prove herself to me for some ungodly fucking reason, and I hate that idea.

"Katya…"

"Okay?" she whimpers, but I just can't.

I won't let her put herself in danger again.

I stand, pulling her up with me.

She sways, and I catch her, steadying her.

Her skin is warm under my hands, her body still trembling.

"I hate you," she whispers.

"I know."

"I hate how much I need you."

"I know."

She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.

"And I hate that you're the only person who makes me feel safe."

I know she doesn't mean that at all.

And I don't like that she's still fighting me.

"I hate how much you've gotten under my skin," I admit. "I hate that I can't let you go."

Her breath catches.

Then she's kissing me, desperate and hungry.

I kiss her back, my hands tangling in her hair.

Her lips crash into mine like a fucking storm, all teeth and tongue and the bitter tang of whatever shit Daniil forced into her system.

I can’t pull back—hell, I don’t want to.

My fingers knot deeper in her hair, yanking her head back to angle her mouth under mine, devouring her like she’s the only thing keeping me from unraveling.