26Yulia
I don’t know what makes me kiss Lucas at that moment, but as soon as our lips meet, my anxiety melts away, replaced by aching need. I want him—this hard, confusing man who is my captor.
With my fantasies fresh in my mind, I want him more than I fear him.
The panic I felt earlier today is absent, the dark memories quiescent as he bears me down to the mattress, his hands sliding into my hair. I arch against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue invading my mouth and exploring it hungrily. He tastes like heat and raw passion, like my dreams and my nightmares. He consumes me, and I consume him in return, my hands moving frantically over his muscular back, his neck, his short hair. I know he’ll most likely kill me in the not-too-distant future—I know the hands cradling my head mig
