Page 176 of Fourth Wing

“You’ve never been like any other rider.” He moves closer but doesn’t touch me. “Probably because you never wanted to be here.”

Gods, I want him to touch me, to wipe away the ugliness of the day, to make me feel something‚ anything but this welling shame.

“None ofyouwanted to be here.” I glance pointedly at the rebellion relic on his neck. “You’re all doing just fine.”

He looks at me, reallylooks, and it feels like he sees entirely too much. “Most of us would burn this place to the ground if we had the option, but every marked onewantsto be here because it’s our only path for survival. It’s not the same for you. You wanted a quiet life full of books and facts. You wanted to record the battles, not be in them. There is nothingwrongwith you. You get to be angry that you killed a man today. You get to be angry that man tried to kill your friend. You get to feel however you want within these walls.”

He’s close enough now that I can feel his body heat through the thin cotton of my dressing gown.

“But not outside them.” It’s not a question.

“We’re riders,” he says, as if that’s explanation enough. He takes hold of my hands and brings them to his chest. “So do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it.”

Hitting him is the last thing I want to do, and suddenly, I’m done fighting it.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Show me what you’ve got.”

I surge up on my toes and kiss him.

Though not forbidden, cadets are strongly encouraged not to develop strong romantic attachments while studying in the quadrant for the efficiency of the unit.

—Article Five, Section Seven

The Dragon Rider’s Codex

CHAPTER

THIRTY

His body goes rigid for one beat, two, and then he spins us impossibly fast, putting my back against the door, jostling the frame.Whoa.He captures my wrists in one hand and holds them prisoner above my head. “Violet,” Xaden groans against my mouth. The plea in his tone floods my veins with a whole different form of power. Knowing he’s just as affected by our attraction as I am is a rush. “This isn’t what you want.”

“It’s exactly what I want,” I counter. I want to replace the anger with lust, the death of the day with the pulse-pounding assurance of my own life, and I know he’s capable of delivering all that and more. “You said to do whatever I need.” I arch my back, pressing the tips of my breasts against his chest.

His breathing changes, and there’s a war in his eyes that I’m determined to win.

It’s time to stop dancing around this unbearable tension and break it.

He leans down, his mouth only inches from mine. “And I’m telling you that I’m the last thing you need.” The barely leashed growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in my body flares to life.

“Are you suggesting someone else?” My heart races as I chance calling his bluff.

“Fuck no.” The unmistakable flare of jealousy narrows his eyes for a heartbeat before his hips pin mine to the door, and my instant relief at his answer is replaced by a jolt of pure lust. I can see that infamous control of his hovering on the edge, balancing precariously on the point of a knife. All he needs is one. Little. Push. And I’m about to shamelessly shove.

“Good.” I tilt my head up to his and draw his bottom lip between mine, sucking before gently nipping him with my teeth. “Because I only want you, Xaden.”

The words breach something within him, and he gives.

Finally.

Our mouths collide, and the kiss is hot and hard and completely out of our control. Need streaks down my spine as he takes my ass in his hands and hauls me against his hips, my back raking the ridges of the door behind me as I use it as leverage to push closer to his strength.

I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles. My dressing gown rises with the motion, but I don’t care, not with the all-consuming way he’s kissing me. The caress of his mouth and the strokes of his wicked tongue steal every logical thought, and my world narrows to this kiss, this minute, this man.Mine.In this moment, Xaden Riorson ismine.

Or maybe I’m his. Who fucking cares as long as he keeps kissing me?

Heat floods my body in an addictive rush, setting every inch of my skin aflame as his mouth slides down my neck in a sensual assault that makes me moan.

“Gods,” he says against my throat, and then we’re moving.

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