She hadn’t flinched from my touch when I’d protected her from that creep outside the bar the other night. Not until her friends interrupted us, breaking our connection.
My scar prickled with the memory of their horrorstruck expressions, tinged with revulsion. I scrubbed the ruined flesh with my fingertips, as though I could dispel the irritating sensation. Deadened nerves barely registered the touch of my hand.
When Allie had touched my face, she hadn’t flinched from my scar. I’d felt the tender brush of her fingertips on my soul, even if my senses had been irreparably dulled to the feel of her.
My craving for her was a burn at the back of my throat, almost nauseating in its intensity. She was mere inches away from me but utterly out of my reach. More than just the towering shelf of books separated us. We lived in different worlds, and I’d already pulled her too far into mine.
I’d put her in danger. I’d put her in the crosshairs of Nikolai Ivanov.
Rage boiled in my veins, and for a moment, red washed over my vision. The library dissipated around me, leaving only the image of his hands on her, his mouth claiming her.
My fists clenched at my sides, and my teeth cut into my cheek. I tasted copper on my tongue.
A soft, hitching exhalation pierced my fury like a needle to a swollen balloon. The sound of Allie’s distress instantly cooled my rage and harnessed my full attention. Another muffled sob hooked deep in my chest, and before I knew what was happening, she pulled me toward her as though she’d looped a rope around my heart.
I rounded the shelf to find her dashing tears from her cheeks with a jerky swipe of her fingers. Her other hand strained up high, and she rolled onto her tiptoes to grasp at a book that was out of her reach. A frustrated growl huffed from her chest, followed by a sniffle.
Suddenly, I was at her back, crowding her as I easily plucked the book from the shelf. She whirled on a gasp, her delicate body going rigid with a burst of fear.
I should’ve backed off. I shouldn’t startle her like this.
I shouldn’t like it when her doe eyes found mine, wide and glittering like gemstones. Even her tears were beautiful, no matter if the sight of them made my gut twist. They glistened on her freckled cheeks. Dark circles bruised the almost translucent alabaster skin beneath her lovely eyes, but they did nothing to dull the desire that punched me square in the chest. Her light, floral scent surrounded me, and I breathed her in like she was oxygen, like I’d been drowning without her.
A small tremor raced through her body, making her appear achingly fragile in my imposing shadow.
“Max.” She breathed my name, barely more than a strained whisper. It caressed my skin, teasing over my mouth. Somehow, my lips were a hairsbreadth from hers. Her chest rose and fell on quickened, panting breaths, making her breasts brush against me in a tantalizing rhythm.
A heavy thud echoed around us as the book dropped from my fingers, utterly forgotten. My hands came up to bracket her shoulders, bracing against the glossy spines to cage her in. Her head tipped back, her face lifting to mine. Her stunning eyes still shone with tears. This close, I could make out the wet droplets that darkened her pale lashes. I’d never seen her like this: totally bare of makeup, revealing the raw beauty of her delicate features.
I wanted her stripped totally bare beneath me, so I could caress and possess every inch of her creamy skin. I wanted to memorize every freckle, to worship each one with my lips until she quivered and begged for me to handle her more harshly. To unleash the most savage cravings that drove me close to madness.
Her lashes fluttered, and another glittering tear spilled down her cheek. My lips brushed over her face, catching the sign of her grief as though I could erase her sadness with a tender touch.
“Max.” Her voice was little more than a whimper, tight with something between pain and longing.
My mouth descended on hers, smothering the keening sound. As soon as my lips touched hers, all thought was obliterated from my mind. All I could do was take everything she would yield to me, to mark her with my tongue and teeth. She wouldn’t so much as think about kissing Nikolai Ivanov ever again. Not after this.
She released a breathy moan into my mouth, a sound between desperation and relief. The black beast that’d sunk its claws into my chest ever since I’d seen her kissing the Russian bastard finally eased its sharp grip. The pain that’d lanced my heart ebbed as she shuddered and softened in my arms, her surrender soothing the darkest parts of me.