I squeak when he pushes me back against the door, his lips attacking mine again and again, his hand around my neck like he owns me.
“You think you can dominate your way out of this?” He growls in a brief separation of our lips. “I thought you were smarter than that, Doll.”
He crashes his mouth back to mine, making me moan from the intensity of his kiss and from his words.
Clearly, this is how he deals with his emotions.
Me almost getting kidnapped, almost losing me, means that he needs to keep me close, his anger and adrenaline fuelling his actions. I understand it, because I’m doing the same. I need to get this energy out, and it seems that he does as well.
I have my flaws and David has his. If I can pretend that him being in the mob doesn’t bother me, maybe he can do the same for my
