Page 58 of Nemesync
Two words, one breath, and pure chaos.
My breath was cut. My eyes closed. And his lips finally claimed mine, hungrily, furiously.
He claimed my mouth as if it had always belonged to him. He claimed meas ifIhad always belonged to him.
The kiss held a blend of passion and frustration, a culmination of all that tension and that will to kill each other but so much relief at the same time.
The taste of rebellion and desire on his tongue was addictive. His arms encircled me, pulling me closer, as if trying to destroy with our own bodies the abyss that hatred and destiny hadcarved between us. His hand was still pushing the knife between my thighs, making me lose my mind because of the friction.
This kiss felt like fire in my veins.
It felt like his mouth knew mine forever.
I grabbed onto his broad shoulder, and he released the knife to the ground.
His lips danced with mine, so full of possessiveness and hunger. I’ve never been kissed like this, as if I had control over him, as if I were what set him in motion.
His mouth swayed over mine, and the hands that, just moments ago, held a knife to my throat, now caressed my jaw and then my neck. We were aflame, our bodies burning.
He kissed me exactly how I imagined it.
Deadly, and possessive.
I clutched his neck when he positioned me on the kitchen counter; the cold marble was my only source of coolness in a moment where I felt literally on fire.
I ceased to breathe, but I was completely okay with that.
With one hand, he gripped my hips, while the other remained on my neck.
His forehead rested against mine as we separated to breathe. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for wanting you,” he murmured, his voice husky.
I looked up at him, biting my lower lip as if trying to contain the rush of heat flooding through my face and body. His chest rose and fell slowly, and mine followed the same rhythm.
My body absorbed his presence, every inch of me acutely aware of the entirety of him. “I’m not the one struggling with inner demons here.”
He smirked his hands moving up and down my thighs. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? The way I devoured your pretty mouth, the way I rubbed your sweet and needy cunt so hard. Your body responded to me more than you’d like to admit, Zanae.”
Desire and sin trailed down my stomach.
He was right and my body betrayed me.
“Maybe you just can’t resist what you hate, Volkov.”
He leaned in, his lips touching mine again, slowly tracing the lines and curves of my mouth, as if he wanted to preserve that feeling forever on his. “Maybe,” he whispered, before kissing me again. He pulled back slightly, our faces still inches apart. “I think you’re the one struggling to resist me,Milaya,” he said.
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
His thumb traced the curves on my mouth gently. “I know you want this to be a promise. You wanted to get under my skin. But look at you, all flushed, waiting for me to fuck you on my kitchen counter like my own pretty fucktoy, begging me to ruin you with those eyes. I win Miss Dellé,” he replied, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
Fuck him.
I got back on my feet, put my hand on his cheek, looking at the smudges of my red lipstick spread across his lips and a bit on his jaw.
Why did I like it so much? Seeing my marks on him, as if I held the power to leave an indelible trace on his skin.
A chuckle escaped my lips, as I leaned down to kiss his neck one last time, leaving another mark for pure satisfaction, just where I could feel his pulse.
A rapid thud quickened beneath my lips.
