Chapter 9: His Door

His door was the last one on the top floor of the Keep.

He opened it and held it for me, and I walked in ahead of him.

The room was plain, with a narrow bed, a desk covered in files and a window with the city behind it.

The door clicked shut behind us, and neither of us reached for a light.

"A handler does not touch his recruit," I said, turning around. "Not for training, not for comfort, not once."

"I remember the speech."

"You gave it to me yourself."

"I did."

"You said you'd never break it."

"I lied," Hollis said.

He crossed the room in two steps and took my face in both hands.

His mouth came down on mine, and it was not gentle.

I had been wanting it for eleven days, and I grabbed the front of his coat and kissed him back hard.

His tongue slid against mine, and I heard myself moan into his mouth.

He walked me backward until my spine hit the wall beside the window.

"You said the wall," I breathed against his lips.

"I did say that."

He dragged my uniform jacket open and shoved it off my shoulders, and I got my hands under his shirt.

His skin was burning hot, and hard muscle jumped under my palms.

"Fuck, Linnea," he said into my neck.

It was the first time he had used my name.

I dug my fingers into his back, and he bit the side of my throat, and a bolt of heat went straight down between my legs.

He tore the buttons off my shirt, and I pulled his over his head.

The mark on his wrist glowed silver in the dark, and the same warm light pulsed under my own ribs.

"What is that?" I said.

"Later."

He got his hands under my thighs and lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

I felt how hard he was through his trousers, a thick, heavy line pressed against my pussy, and I rocked against it.

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