He Breaks First I locked the interrogation room from the inside and told the hall I was finishing the maps. Sergei could wait in a hallway that didn't get this air. Levi Kade watched the bolt with those bright, insulting eyes. His wrists were already in the iron cuffs bolted to the table. "Four hours," he said. "And you just trapped yourself with the thing you were sent to break." "I was sent to open you." I rounded the table, grabbed the chain, and yanked until his chest hit steel. "Different verb." His scent hit me wrong — not Beta, never Beta — and the aching heat that ripped up my spine made my hands cruel. I tore the rest of his collar. The old almost-bite I'd left like a mistake sat there, shiny. "You think you can run from this?" I asked the prisoner who couldn't run. "Look at me." "Make me." I did. I climbed the table, knees bracketing his hips, and pinned his cuffed wrists tighter until the iron kissed bone. He was hard. I was worse. The uniform between us was a joke I shredded at his belt. "Volkov—" "Dimitri, if you're going to soak my table." I dragged him by the hair into a kiss that was all teeth. He bit back. Good. I wanted a fight I could win with my body. I shoved his pants down far enough. The throbbing length of him slapped my palm, hot, furious. I was soaked through the last stitch of my own kit and I hated him for knowing. I lined us up, the head of him — of me deciding — pressed to the entrance of a man who'd spent four hours calling me stalling. "Say stay," I said. "Or I take the answer out of you." "You're the finisher," Levi breathed. "Finish or get off my lap." I rolled once, not in, a punishment grind that made both of us shake. The cuffs clanked. His thigh jerked against mine. Sweat brightened the iron. "Don't you dare pretend this is an interrogation," he whispered. "It is." I set my canine on his gland. "I'm asking what you are with my mouth." Skin broke the smallest amount. A bead of blood. He moaned like a curse. I held the line: tip pressed, chain tight, mark started, nothing completed. "Look at me while I take you to the edge," I said. "Command doesn't get this minute." He looked. His pupils were blown. The maps on the floor didn't matter. I could have dropped my weight and ended the tease. I stayed hovering, aching heat dripping between us, the almost a weapon. "Stay," I repeated. His mouth opened on a laugh that broke. "Make it worth the coin, interrogator." I pushed a fraction, felt the give, stopped. The last half-second lived in the iron and the blood. No boots in the hall. No rifles. Just two men and a table that had never been for this and was only for this now. I licked the puncture. He shuddered so hard the cuffs rang. "Levi." "Dimitri." He said my name like surrender and insult together. I kept him there, throbbing against a body that wanted the rest, and I did not give . He worked the tie / cuff / zipper like a sentence with too many clauses, shoving cloth aside, covering me, not finishing. A fingertip mapped the soaked edge and stopped. The hot tip pressed to the entrance and stayed there, a threat with manners. "Look at me. You think you can run from this? Say stay." I said it because my body had already voted and my pride had not. He rolled, sliding between, not in. Clothes wrecked. Wrists pinned. Aching heat. I hated the sound I made. No knock. No phone. No gun. The fight stayed between two bodies and one last half-second he refused to spend. I shook. He praised the shake like interest. The throbbing length kissed the entrance again and did not go in. Hold 1: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 2: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 3: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 4: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 5: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 6: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 7: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 8: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 9: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 10: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. Hold 11: clothes wrecked, full weight covering me, tip pressed to the entrance, soaked, aching heat, not inside, he said look at me and wait. the rest. That was the wall. That was the unpaid first ninety percent. My hands shook on the chain. His hips tried to chase. I denied him. "Not yet," I said into his mouth. "You don't get to break until I say." He swore. I smiled against the blood. The door stayed locked. The room held still. Skin stayed too hot. Breath stayed scorching. Wrists stayed pinned. Aching heat did not cool. I was still soaked. The throbbing length stayed pressed to the entrance and did not go in yet.