Page 111 of Captive Prize

Then she bit me—hard.

Her teeth sank into my lower lip, the pain shocking and filthy, shooting straight to my cock. The edge of pain added to the passion and just deepened my need for her. This was what it was going to be like between us.

Always.

Neither of us were the type of people to give a single inch. We were oil and fire. We didn’t mix, we ignited. But we belonged together.

She was going to learn, one way or another, this was going to be her life. A constant fight where we would come together, clashing in fire and passion, and it would be glorious every single time.

We would always fight each other, and every argument would be solved with violent, earth-shattering sex.

Nothing less would ever satisfy either of us.

Her teeth bit down harder, intensifying the sharp sting to my bottom lip. It only made me groan and then slam her body against the wall.

I pressed my body to hers, caging her in.

She didn’t fight me. She should’ve. She should have shoved me away, hit me, screamed at me, done anything but kiss me back like she was starving for it.

Her body didn’t melt against mine. Her legs wrapped around my waist; her fingers clawed at me. One hand was wrapped in my shirt, the other one gripping my hair as she pulled me closer to her and kissed me back as violently as I kissed her.

It didn’t matter how much she lied to herself. She couldn’t lie about this. She couldn’t pretend that this didn’t exist.

Maybe it would have been better if she could have been just as dismissive about this as she was when I walked into the room, but it wasn’t possible.

This was too magnetic, too forceful.

And it fucking ruined me. But I was going to make sure I ruined her more.

CHAPTER 27

ZOYA

The second Roman stormed into my room, my prison, I knew it was going to end in a fight.

He was pissed and just before the door slammed shut behind him, I caught a glimpse of the hilt of a blade buried in the side of the doorframe.

This was going to get interesting.

I was ready.

I had been ready since Gregor left an hour or so ago.

More than that, I was spoiling for a fight.

There was so much rage, so much anger bubbling up inside of me, I needed an outlet. Who better to unleash my fury on than the arrogant man who had the audacity to think that I would marry him?

That I would just willingly hand him everything I had built on my own.

How dare he think that just because he took me, fucked me, and then rescued me, I somehow owed him my life?

No. That was not how this was going to go.

I owed him nothing except maybe a knife to his throat.

When he was stupid enough to shatter the bed frame, essentially freeing me from the cuff, he made a mistake. That handcuff was the only thing between him and my madness.

I launched myself at him, ready to fight.

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