Ivan ran a thumb across my cheek. The suggestion in the touch expanded unease in my stomach, the caress not evoking a sliver of the heat certain inked fingers did. Why couldn’t this burn? Why couldn’t I want this? “If I am going to die,” he said with a dark form of amusement, “I may as well go out with a bang.” I didn’t have time to process the statement before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my lips to his between the bars.
