Page 47 of Falling for the Enemy

Pure fucking bliss.

A groan breaks free from my chest, and I delve my tongue deep, seeking and finding her own with fervor. Starving for more of the siren I hold, I release her blonde curls and band my arms around her lower back, resting my gun on her hip.

Dropping my free hand to clench her ass, and seconds from ripping her dress, then tossing the satin to the floor, I knead her flesh through the fabric of her gown.

I need to feel her naked skin against mine.

If I don’t, I fear I may die.

Arms circling my neck, the little witch leans into me, rubbing her tits against my chest. Lost in the moment, she moans. I swallow it down, the sweet taste of her burning itself into my memory as I lift the skirt of her dress and slide my leg where she needs it most.

On contact, she bucks against me and bites my bottom lip, the nip hard enough to draw blood, the heat from her pussy bleeding into my thigh.

It’s now that I realize I was wrong.

It’s not her who’s fucked. It’s me.

After the damage she was dealt at the hands of her betraying ex, along with the distrust that lingers as a result, she’s going to fight me, fight us, every step of the way. But I care little about her fear-driven objections. She can come at me with everything she’s got.

The war for her heart is one I’ll still win.

Bottom line, spending another moment of my life without her at my side isn’t an option. Not any longer.

She. Is. Mine.

I nearly roar in outrage when she suddenly tears her lips from mine, shattering the mind-bending moment without cause. Or at least, that’s what I first think.

Shrouded with lust, and with the taste of her lips continuing to linger, I barely register the nearby sound of someone clearing their throat.

Manzana, however, reacts quickly.

Movements fluid and well-practiced, she lifts her gun, pointing it at the man standing just feet away, his scowling face etched in disapproval.

I’m tempted to tell her to shoot him.

A fitting punishment for interrupting.

“¡Sal de aquí y espérame afuera!”

Unaffected by my raised voice, Benito shakes his head. But smartly, he does as I command and leaves to wait for me outside, allowing me to refocus on the enchantress holding me captive, threatening to take my fucked-up heart prisoner.

More so than she already has.

“Your place or mine,” I say, ready to throw her over my shoulder and carry her away if she protests spending the night in my bed. As well as in my arms. “Those are your only two options.”

“Think again, zhopa.” Palm on my chest, she scoffs and pushes me away before dropping the bottom of her dress, hiding her flesh from my seeking eyes. “The only place I’m going is home.”

My shoulders tense as I holster my gun. “Your place or mine,” I repeat, giving her one last chance. “Answer me, Arianna.”

“Are you deaf? Because I’m confident I just—” She screams, the shrill sound causing my ears to ring when I knock her gun from her hand and bend forward, right arm banding around her thighs. “Don’t you dare, you durak! If you so much as try—”

I toss her over my shoulder with ease.

“You bastard!” Her clenched fists repeatedly pound against my back, but I give them little thought. Doing no more harm than a fly, they don’t affect me. “Put me down or—”

“Or what? What will you do? Shoot me?” Chuckling, I carry her out of the building and to the waiting car, where both Christian and Benito stand. “If that’s your plan, then I hope you have a second gun hidden beneath your dress. If you’d like, I’d be happy to check for you.”

A wide-eyed Christian opens the Rover’s back door, allowing me to quickly toss her inside. She lands on the leather seat with a bounce and scrambles to escape. But she doesn’t stand a chance against me. I’m twice her size and three times as determined.

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