Page 58 of Dark Awakening

His eyes flash with annoyance and something more primal. "I won't apologize for keeping you safe. You're mine—I'll eliminate any threats."

"Yours?! I don't belong to anyone, especially not an arrogant stalker."

Rhyland steps even closer, body pressed to mine. "Keep telling yourself that, Angel. But we both know the truth."

His lips brush my ear as he whispers, "You're made for me. I won't let anyone else have you."

His possessive words spark fury in me, even as his closeness makes my pulse quicken traitorously.

His throaty chuckle sends goosebumps along my flesh, and I can’t help but fantasize about hearing it forever. His muscular neck is defined with tense muscles as he laughs, and my inner slut takes over as I envision licking up the corded veins on his throat.

Rhyland smiles knowingly, sensing my reaction despite my anger. "Dance with me, Danica," he murmurs. "Time to show these assholes exactly who you belong to."

He’s divine. He towers over me, his powerful form rippling beneath the midnight-blue tuxedo. Our complementary shades make us seem destined. His ocean-blue eyes pierce through the half mask; their riptide pulls, hypnotizing me. His robust and stubbled jawline exudes rugged magnetism.

A commanding presence envelops him, danger and desire mingling. My heart hammers wildly under his smoldering look. Being close intoxicates me, feeling both protected and thrilled by the latent strength simmering just under his refined exterior.

No man has ever evoked such exhilaration with just a look. My mystery lover promises adventure and passion unlike any I've known. I cannot resist the undertow pulling me toward him.

Heat spreads through me as Rhyland's lips graze the back of my hand in a featherlight kiss. "I've missed you, Angel. Have you missed me?" he murmurs, his breath scorching my skin.

My pulse quickens instinctively while my mind screams caution. I'm infuriated by his ability to reduce me to base desires I try rationally to suppress.

"I..." No witty retort forms. My body betrays any facade of indifference. I'm helpless, angered by my reactions, yet craving more.

Around us, the music crescendos as we stand locked in each other's orbit. However far I try to flee, his gravity inevitably pulls me back. Thoughts of danger are drowned out by pounding heartbeats urging me closer.

This recklessness terrifies me even as I'm desperately thrilled with it. Though it may destroy me, I cannot make myself turn back now.

He grabs my hand in a forceful grip and pulls me close. His hot breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “Come on. Let’s make this dance floor ours.”

He spins me around and pulls me into the warmth of his arms. His confident moves make even my toes tremble in awe. His hands seem to know exactly where to go as he clasps one around my waist and the other interlocks our hands. Once I see him in the light, not just the shadows, his creamy complexion and black tattoos on his hands are visible. My mind runs wild with ideas of what else is hidden beneath his shirt, thinking the designs could continue up his long, muscular arms. And at least one tattoo peeking out from his collar around his neck.

The chemistry between us is palpable as I feel his hard and soft sides combine, embracing all I am and holding me closer than ever before. We begin moving in a gentle but passionate sway, and I have never felt more connected. His hand reaches dangerously low, barely missing an intimate place. I ache for more. I can’t help but surrender to the flames that course through my veins…. I’m lost in the moment with no hope of return. He takes charge of the dance, leading each graceful step—and I follow without hesitation.

We move with the music, our bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. “You look breathtaking, Angel. Everything I imagined you to be.”

My gaze finds him again; our height difference is extraordinary. He towers above me like a behemoth, and I feel so delicate in his embrace.

I chuckle. “You don’t look too shabby either! It’s nice to finally see my stalker in the light.”

He laughs, but there’s an underlying sadness to it that I can’t quite place. “Well, not all of me… yet.” He gestures to his mask, and my heart clenches.

I know he refuses to show his face for a reason, and I’m allowing it out of respect for him. But why is it so important to him? I want to understand, yet I’m terrified of what I might find.

His firm grip electrifies my skin, leaving me with a mix of intrigue and hesitation as we step off the dance floor. The grand ballroom engulfs us as we saunter through the sophisticated crowd, the classical music echoing off the walls.

We finally reach the bar. He hands me an exquisite crystal glass filled with bubbly champagne. As I take it from him, his fingers brush against mine. A warm sensation lingers in their wake, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes speak volumes, revealing a fire within that excites me to no end.

Our glasses clink together, and a torrent of emotions swirls inside me—desire mixed with fear, longing mixed with anxiety. As he downs his champagne confidently, I watch his throat bob with each swallow. My eyes trail from his neck to his sultry gaze fixed on me.

His voice suddenly deepens as he speaks, “Keep looking at me like that, beautiful, and I’m gonna have to take you away somewhere.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a playful challenge forming on my lips as I say, “Oh? And just what will you do to me?”

He reaches across the bar and gently squeezes my hand tightly. He smirks, but there is something more than humor in his expression. My eyes travel up and down his muscular form as he says teasingly, "I think you know."

My thoughts swirl, and I can feel every nerve in my body pulse with energy. Suddenly, my skin is hot, and the sensation of insufficient air is almost too much to bear. I'm overwhelmed by the thought of what he's capable of doing.

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