Page 138 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

This was madness. This was utter madness. “Get off me.”

“Push me away,” he growled. “I know you can. Push me away.”

“The bargain—”

“Fuck the bargain, we both know you can hurt me without killing me. You can hurt me all you want. You’ve already hurt me a plenty, so push me. Come on,” he goaded, breathing hard. “Come on, Snow.”

I couldn’t.

And he knew it.

We both knew it.

He rested his forehead on mine and whispered, “Come on, love. Push me so I know to hold back with you. Push me so I know to stay away from you. Maybe…maybe I can really try this time.”

“I want to,” I breathed out, shaking my head. “I swear I want to. I swear I want to hurt you, push you, kill you. I swear. And I swear one day I will. There is no escaping it. I will kill you.” When he let go of me, I didn’t push him off nor did I wrestle him to the ground. Instead, I fisted his shirt and said, words burning my mouth, “But…I need you. And I hate it…hate it so much. I hate you so much. Hate that I want you. You did this to me. And I hate it. I hate you.” Frustration, so much of it, it wrapped around me like a second skin and I couldn't tear it off. He’d confused every part of mine. Mostly my head. I needed him out of my head.

“You hate me,” he breathed, caging me in under him again.

“I do.”

His silver eyes blazed. “And you want me.”

“I want you.”

“Say that you want me again.”

I slid my hands down his chest till the seam of his shirt touched my fingertips and then pushed it up till it went over his head. Leaning forward, I left a kiss on his biceps and his eyes drew shut. “I want you.” From the tortured way he breathed, he was not going to give in. “Make a deal with me?”

“Stealing my lines now?”

“Wouldn’t they be mine too?”

He dragged that soft bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a smile. “What is your deal, my queen?”

“We pretend. We continue our lie.”

“Your lie.”

“Will you argue with me on this again?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. My lie.”

“There are conditions. You can pretend I am the Kilian you remember, but don’t pretend to be Snow from back then. Don’t feign care. Don’t smile at me if you don’t want to smile at me. Don’t touch me unless you want to. Take what you want from me. Use me how you want to. You don’t have to pretend at all.”

“Don’t you want it to feel fair?”

“Nothing about this is fair,” he said, leaving kisses all over my face. “Not when I love you harder than I need to breathe.”

My chest constricted, blood rushing to make my heart pump harder. “If that is what you want.”

“Where do I sign? There?” He kissed my brow, both my eyes, my nose, my cheeks. “Or there?” he asked, tipping my chin up, his tongue darting to lick the seam of my lips before he bit my bottom lip. How I loved that. “Tell me,” he murmured over my flesh, trailing wet kisses down my neck. “Tell me what I should do to you. Tell me what you like.”

You. Anything of you.

His hands travelled over the sides of my body till they met the end of my night dress. “Tell me how you like to be touched.” He reached under and began rolling the fabric up my body and over my head. The open chill of Olympia pebbled my skin, but the scrutiny of that hungry dark stare set in on fire. “Licked,” he continued, chasing a trail with his tongue between my breasts, stopping on my neck again and sucking on my flesh. “Sucked.” He grazed my jaw with his lips as he moved to whisper in my ear, “Fucked.”