Armani’s POV
She was under me, breathing hard, eyes dark with a storm of hate and want that mirrored my own. I could feel her pulse racing under my fingers as I pinned her wrists above her head with my good hand. The bandage on my arm was already starting to stain red again, but I didn’t care. The pain only sharpened everything.
I leaned down, lips brushing hers in a slow, dangerous kiss — not gentle, but deliberate, like I was tasting the edge of a blade.
“You know what I hate most?” I murmured against her mouth, voice low and rough. “Betrayal.”
I shifted my weight, freeing my injured arm just enough to reach over to the nightstand. My fingers closed around the cold metal of my Glock. I brought it back between us, letting the barrel rest lightly against the side of her throat.
Riley’
