Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,36

none of this would’ve happened, but he cuts me off.

“You’re different from us. You’re not Dr fucking Johnson and you don’t deserve to be punished for his sins.” He drops his hand from my face, and I mourn the loss. “So move that pretty arse. We’re leaving.”

He resumes packing his guns.

I stay in place. “I’ll call the police.”

He shoots me an unbelieving look over his shoulder as if I just insulted him. “Seriously? You think the fucking police can stop people like us? We kill their commissioners as a bloody sport!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving.” My throat closes, and fear grips me by the gut. Notorious assassins are coming after my life, but that’s not what terrifies me, it’s the possibility of dying in the middle of nowhere and Crow paying the price for protecting me.

He whirls around so fast, I flinch backwards. He clutches my shoulders, a murderous shadow crossing his face. “Quit being fucking stubborn! I thought you didn’t want to die anymore.”

“It’s not about being stubborn.” I try to wiggle free of his hold, but his fingers are digging into my flesh like steel. “I won’t spend the rest of my life on the run with a target on my back. Your fellow assassins would find me anyway. If I’m going to die, then I’m doing it here. In my family’s home.”

“Eloise...” He warns, the veins in his neck almost popping with tension. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and take you out of here by force. Because I’ll fucking do it.”

“The only thing you’ll do is leave.” I push him gently towards the door. “This has nothing to do with you. Don’t create a rift with your colleagues because of me. They might kill you as well.”

I don’t have time to blink as he pushes me with one strong hand. My shins hit the edge of the sofa. I fall backwards with a yelp.

Crow is on me. He crawls atop of me, his thighs trapping mine in between, and his sharp scowl considering me with pure anger. A tinge of fear lodges inside me. Yet, something about the harshness on his face turns his features a lot more handsome. Roguish. Ethereal.

“Apparently, the suicidal thoughts haven’t been purged out of you.” He squeezes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you think it’ll be one hit and good fucking night? They have a personal grudge against you. They will skin you alive and ruin that pretty face before they’ll begin feeling satisfied. Is that what you fucking want?”

“You think I’m not scared?” I shout, hitting his chest. “I am! I’m terrified! But I won’t have you involved in this. It’s none of your business.”

“Then I’m making it my business.” His lips crash against mine. I gasp, but the sound is swallowed by his urgent, passionate strokes.

His tongue doesn’t demand access. It dives right in and feasts on me. I’m left breathless. Boneless.

A tingle shoots down my spine and pools between my legs. A booming ecstasy I never felt in my life bubbles inside me and climbs to the surface, demanding release.

No. This can’t happen.

It takes everything in me to pull back from his mouth, but his hold on my jaw keeps me locked in place.

“Go,” I mumble. “Just go. Please.”

I’m hanging to my resolve by a thread. It’s difficult to think when his touch is all over me, around me, and seeking to take refuge inside me.

But he needs to leave. At least save himself.

“I’m not going anywhere!” Crow cages my face with his hands. “Is that fucking clear?”

Tears fall on my cheeks, and I can sense my resolve crumbling and crashing to pieces. My fingers dig into Crow’s chest as I bury my face in his warm, hard skin. I’ve never felt like I wanted to keep someone, protect them, and punch them all at the same time.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I murmur, “I’m so broken.”

“What a fucking coincidence.” He lifts my head so those deep blue eyes stare at my soul. “I’m broken, too.”

“Fuck you, Crow,” I whisper my frustration.

“That’s what I’m about to do, Eloise.” He yanks my legs apart and settles between them. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll forget about death and all his bloody friends.”

I gasp as an unmistakable bulge brushes against the inside of my thigh. As if his words are dopamine, my nipples harden, straining against the cloth until it’s almost painful.

My breath hitches. My thighs shake. And I’m so