Page 64 of Wild Angel

“Your ass.”

Nyx barks out a laugh. “Yeah. It really fucking does.”

“Good.”

All mirth drains from her face.

“You can’t go around doing whatever the fuck you want anymore, Nyx.” I twist to face her, crushing her hand in mine. She winces but doesn’t pull away. “You’re associated with the Domingo Cartel, whether you want to be or not. Nothing you do or say is going to change that now.”

Her eyes narrow. “So I get to drive around in limousines, sipping on champagne, but I can’t ever draw attention to myself?” She looks around with scornful eyes. “As if driving around in one of these isn’t obnoxious enough?”

“As long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”

Her lip twitches into a sneer. She’s about to start back chatting again, I know it. But I don’t want her arguing with me. I want her to register what I’m saying, take it to heart.

Problem is, I’ve never had to convince anyone of shit before. People listen to me when I tell them what to do.

Sometimes I wish Nyx was one of those people…but at the same time, I know that it’s only because she challenges me that I’d even bother to give her the time of day. I’m surrounded by pushovers and Yes Sirs all fucking day…Nyx is neither of those.

Is that why I can’t stop thinking about her? Is that why I’ve decided on this new course of action…one which will lock us together—for better or worse?

Nothing’s certain yet. I can still change my mind.

But I don’t want to.

I wantNyx.

Now.

Forever.

It makes no sense. She’s a liability.

Yeah, she knows how to punch and fire a weapon…but she’s never been exposed to cartel life. She’s just a civilian who has no idea just how fucked up my world can get.

And by tomorrow, she’ll have no choice. Once I mark her as my own, there’ll be nothing she can say or do to get out of it.

Even if she runs again.

Nyx frowns. Not angrily, but with concern. “Million bucks for your thoughts?”

Nothing.

Everything is fucking perfect.

I set my face in its usual stoic expression, tilt my head. “You’ve forgotten already, haven’t you?”

Her frown deepens. “About what?”

I drag her hand into my lap and curl her fingers around my cock.

Her expression clears. She throws a look to the distant front of the limousine. This model of Rolls doesn’t even have a privacy screen. The back is built in its own enclosed compartment. The only way to communicate with the driver is through the intercom system on the console a few feet away.

But I don’t need to tell my driver anything. We’re headed back to the villa, no more stops.

Nyx tries to pull her hand away, but I keep it there, right on the damp spot she left on the fabric, forcing her to feel my cock growing harder and harder through my rough jeans.

“You think that spanking was the only punishment I had planned for you?”

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