Page 86 of Pitiful Lies

Angel kisses me with pure possession, and I revel in it. I want it.

His dominion over me.

His brand all over my skin.

Whatever you want to call it, I want it.

I want Angel Fury to claim me. I keep dreaming of the time I can finally say I belong to him. And he belongs to me.

Just that.

I’ve never had that. Never belonged to someone and the desire I feel for it is bone deep. I want to be able to say it out loud.

Love me. Please. Love me like I love you.

I make the wish silently, moaning softly as he slows the kiss. He presses his forehead to mine and I breathe him in.

“Yeah, Koukla, I see something I like. But I don’t like anyone else seeing it,” he tells me with a possessive note that sends a flood dripping between my legs.

“They just get the wrapping, Angel. What lies beneath it is all for you. Only you,” I tell him, and place my hand on his chest.

My man rumbles and fuck, it is so sexy. He takes my hand, kisses my knuckles, and tucks it in the corner of his arm before guiding me to the entrance.

We don’t wait in line. Angel walks right to the front and the couple there steps back. The older man looks worried when Angel glances at him once.

But he doesn’t need to do more than that. Security is waving us through, and I don’t spare the other people another thought.

I’m here with Angel Fury and his presence is palpable. The man oozes power and strength. Other people, well, they recognize it. And they bend to it.

Nico is the King, and Luc is the Council. But Angel is the Enforcer.

He is the hammer of justice in everything the Vipers do.

He is vengeance and retribution.

He is devastation and annihilation.

And he is mine.

Pride and possession fill me as I straighten my shoulders and allow him to lead me inside. We walk through a long, elaborate hallway to a room set up like some kind of gala event.

I don’t really understand what we’re here to celebrate. But I don’t care. I get to be with Angel, and this man makes my knees knock and my pulse race.

“Come on. We need to say hello to the guest of honor.”

“Okay. How long are we staying?” I ask, and I look up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

Angel looks good enough to eat in his crisp white shirt and black tux. Several heads turn to stare at the big, tatted up man, but he doesn’t spare any of them a single glance.

His glacier blue eyes are zeroed in on me, and I feel special.

I feel seen.

Chosen.

I feel lucky to be with him.

That’s so messed up, Sisi.

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