Page 173 of Dante

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"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

She pulls back.

Looks at me.

Her eyes are wet.

"No," she admits. "I don't."

I brush a strand of hair from her face.

Trace the line of her jaw with my thumb.

"I don't know if I can stay put," I tell her honestly. "I don't know if I can sit here while Nico's team does the work I shouldbe doing. I don't know if I can watch from the sidelines while the man who murdered my family walks free."

"But?"

"But you're here." I press my forehead to hers. "And I can't leave you unprotected. I can't walk out that door knowing you're alone. I can't?—"

My voice breaks.

I hate it.

Hate the weakness.

But Marina's hand comes up.

Cups my cheek.

"Then don't," she says simply.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Marina

Dante's eyes darken.

Something shifts in his expression. The tension in his jaw. The way his gaze drops to my mouth.

He kisses me.

Not gentle this time.

Not careful.

His mouth claims mine with a hunger that steals my breath. His tongue slides against mine, demanding, taking. I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

Heat floods through me.

Pools low in my belly.

Spreads between my thighs.

I want him.

God, I want him so badly it hurts.

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