But now, I don’t care if he knows how much I like him. No, like is too mild a word and describes nothing of the overpowering intensity my heart holds for him. It hits me then as my lips find his. I probably love the asshole. Kirill is stunned for only a moment before he threads his fingers in and fists whatever length of my hair he can grab as he devours me. My kiss is tentative, emotional, and vulnerable. His is the epitome of destruction. And you know what? I might be fine with that, after all. His beastly side is part of who he is and I wouldn’t have him any other way. The car comes to a
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