Page 40 of Wicked Angel

“You’re right,” he said, nodding. “After today, you will officially belong to me.”

“A pawn in your blood games,” I murmured thoughtfully.

It was curious that Jackie wanted that so damn bad. Why? Because she liked being a beautiful woman on the arm of a powerful man? I shook my head, accidentally removing his finger from my face.

His hand came back quick enough, though, and he tipped my chin up again so our eyes were locked together. Gaven’s expression was thoughtful, considering, as his steel blue gaze roved my face. His brows pinched together, creating a v.

“I’ve never owned anything I couldn’t bear to let go,” he finally said after a moment. “When you grow up with nothing, you learn not to get attached.”

“You grew up with nothing?” I repeated his words, curious at the hint he revealed of the man behind the mask.

Gaven chuckled, but the sound was dry. “I grew up hopping from one shithole to another, Angel,” he replied. “Meth labs, crack houses, you name it. I’ve lived in it. Crime is a way of life for men like me. It’s the easiest path to take. I’ve built myself up good and well from the things I’ve done. I don’t regret any of it.”

“There’s never been anyone you’ve killed that you later wished you hadn’t?” I frowned. Did that mean he didn’t have emotions? No, that wasn’t right. He obviously did. I’d seen him intrigued, angry, and even curious. Gaven Belmonte might not have acted like the average man, but he still had emotions—no matter how deeply buried.

“I’ve never looked back,” he answered. “The people I’ve killed, I forgot as soon as the job was done. Just as I try not to think about my past, I don’t want you to think about yours.”

“Then what do I think about?”

“Your future.” My skin tingled as he stared down at me. “Evangeline Price,” he said, his lips forming my full name. “If you give me what I want, then I swear to you there will be no regrets. But you should be warned—once you’re mine, there will be no going back, and there's nowhere you'll be able to run that I won't come hunting for you.”

Perhaps it was curiosity—Gaven’s words, the small tidbits of information about him slowly revealing the insides of a profoundly secretive man—or perhaps it was reckless hope. Whatever the case, I doubted there was a way to stop my fate now. So, I nodded. Silently, I agreed to his proposal. He would use me, but I would use him too. Two players in a fucked up game of chess, both needing the other and hating them too. I only hoped that the game would end with both of us alive.

17

GAVEN

Stronger women have bowed to me. More fierce women. Women who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between my eyes. This one, though, this one is different. In a few short hours, Evangeline Price would become my wife.

Her big, hazel eyes gazed up at me. She looked like her namesake—an angel waiting to be defiled, an angel ready and willing to take that leap into the dark abyss of hell if it meant she got what she wanted. I liked that about her. It made her predictable.

The more and more I got to know her, though, the more she surprised me. I’d chosen her because I thought she would be the easiest to control and over the past few weeks, I realized that my initial impression of her had been wrong. It was rare for me to admit a mistake.

Now, it was too late.

She intrigued me too much, and who would want a wife that cowered before him anyway? Certainly not me. I’d seen far too many bow their heads, either in defeat or in false loyalty. I want to see her bow hers in true submission. I had come to crave that sight. To see her bare before me, not because I forced her to be there, but because shewantedto be. If she never wanted to be, well … I’d take what I could get, even if I couldn’t have what I wanted.

“I can never tell, Gaven,” when Angel spoke my name, it made my insides twist—like vile snakes slithering over one another, excitement boiling beneath their scales, “whether or not you’re threatening me or propositioning me.”

A smirk rose to my lips. “Both,” I informed her, moving closer. “Always both, love.”

Her breath hitched as my cock pressed against her. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. All telltale signs of a woman tempted. Good. I wanted her to feel that. Hungry. Curious.

Where I was drenched in blood, no matter how unseen, she was as different from me as a person could get. It was laughable that I was thinking of tying her to me for the rest of her life. Marking her as mine. But I wasn’t justthinkingabout it; I was going to make it happen.

The quiet perfection in the photograph Raffaello had shown me when he'd made his initial proposal had been fleeting. The reality was something else altogether. I was becoming obsessed with my soon-to-be wife. Every fragile, breakable inch of her. I wanted to shatter her into a million pieces and then put her back together and pour gold between the cracks. I wanted to see if I’d even be capable of breaking her. So far, she’d proven to be far more durable than I’d ever anticipated.

Angel's lashes fluttered, and with a movement that was absent of any intention, her tongue swiped out. Her teeth immediately followed, digging down into the fullness of her bottom lip. It was that look, that one small movement, that sealed her fate.

“You—” She didn’t get another word out. My hands dug into the backs of her thighs and lifted her, cutting off whatever she might have said in an instant as she gasped in shock.

Those hazel eyes shot to mine, and she yelped as I deposited her ass on the table at her back. One quick swipe of my arm sent all the little items that had been displayed there skittering to the floor. Pushing her legs apart, I reached down and began lifting the folds of her dress.

It took a moment for her to realize what I was doing. Once she did, though, she didn’t disappoint. “Gaven!” Shock and fury flooded her face as she gripped her dress and tried to shove it back down; her little movements of resistance made my smile widen even more. “Stop it,” she hissed.

“No.” I wanted her fury. I wanted to see her innocence bleed away into something new. I wanted to shred her to pieces and remake her into my perfect queen. I meant every word when I told her I wanted to fill her stomach with my seed and watch her grow round with my child. I wanted so much more than that too. I wanted to tie her up and fill her to the brim with my cum. I wanted to see her choke on it, her eyes begging me for relief. Relief I had no intention of giving.

Soon she would realize that everything I wanted was something she would crave. I would peel back the petals of her innocence, ripping them to pieces so they couldn’t be put back together. Then and only then would she finally reveal her deepest, darkest desires to me. Already, I could see the change overcoming her as my fingers brushed her inner thighs, while I shoved her skirts up her hips, and her body swayed towards me.

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