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I want to be able to love you and be loved in return. That’s all. I want everything. Nothing more, nothing less.
Our eyes meet and hold, tension crackling between us… until one thought pops up in my head. It’s a thought that doesn’t belong in my head—truth be told, it sounds almost like I snatched it out of Arsen’s.
That’s what you want?the thought says.Very well. Then take it.
And before I can second-guess the instinct, I do.
I fist his shirt in my hands and drag his lips down to mine.
Always-prepared, never-taken-by-surprise Arsen stumbles, for just a second, as the kiss deepens and we wobble. Then he steadies himself, cradles my face with a growl deep in his chest, and presses my back against the wall.
I tear at the buttons of his shirt, and he shreds the collar of mine to press hot kisses to my chest and collarbone. His hair is silk in my hands, and I tug, directing him to my neck and my mouth. It feels good to take control. To channel all my anger into desire.
It feels like I’m stealing a small piece of him for myself.
I run my fingertips down to his abs. I can feel the gritty knots of his scars beneath my touch, like I’m reading the Braille of his life and it’s telling me all the things he refuses to say with his own lips.
I kiss my way along the exact paths my fingers went, following the line of his scar. Arsen falls forward, catching himself on the wall with a wordless snarl.
Before I can trail down to my knees, he lifts me back up and tries to turn me to face the wall.
But—
“No. Not like that. Not this time.”
Instead, I press against his shoulders until we’re on the floor, me straddling him with my knees around his hips.
If this is all I ever get of him, I’m going to take as much as I can.
The way he growls when I touch him—mine.
The way his dark eyes fill with desire when my hand slides between our bodies—mine.
I gather each and every strangled breath, tuck away the sight of his teeth clenching when I stroke him, and memorize the way his lips part when I lean close, almost like he wants this as much as I do. And for every perfect gesture I file away to keep me warm in the years to come, I save it with a single, rasped word:Mine, mine, mine.
One day way too soon, Arsen Adamov may take everything from me.
But right now, it’s my turn.
I slide onto him slowly, taking every inch of him until we’re sealed together. “Fuck.” The word is wrenched from between his gritted teeth. “Laila…”
I bite back his name, refusing to give him another piece of my soul. He’s taken enough. This ismine.I dig my nails into his chest and ride him hard.
Arsen cuffs his fingers around my wrists, looking into my eyes as I take and take, harder and faster, using him the same way he’s using me.
I hold off as long as I can, but finally, I close my eyes and come.
Arsen gasps, and I feel him twitch inside of me, but this isn’t about him. “You feel so good,roza.”
I don’t care.
I squeeze my eyes tighter, riding him until I shudder to a stop.
When I open my eyes, there’s blood on Arsen’s chest, little crimson half-moon cuts in the shape of my nails.
He looks at me in the silent moments after, and even though he says nothing, I feel it crumble. Everything I tried to squirrel away turns to dust that pours between my fingers before I can keep it safe.
Tears burn in the backs of my eyes as I climb off of him and get dressed. When I leave, he’s still on the floor, but I don’t look back.
