Page 140 of Never Fall for an Angel

I hate my mind for what it can’t tell me. For the secrets, it’s hiding. I hate my body for reveling in his touch when I know he’s not who he says he is. I hate the scars that cover every inch of my skin, even if some of them aren’t visible to the naked eye.

I hate that even though I shouldn’t, every fiber of my being craves his.

Christian catches my wrist before I can make contact again, and he tugs me against his chest, holding my arms down.

Every ounce of moral clarity I had before shatters.

When he tries to twist my arm back behind me, my lips crash against his. His kiss is ruthless, a deep feral groan rumbling in his chest against mine when he pulls me against him. We’re teeth and nails and anger, swirling to create a vortex that I’m sure will either kill me or make me come without him even touching me.

Christian kisses me with a ferocity I’ve never felt before. With searing desire, demanding I give him every piece of me, even if those pieces are scattered and broken.

Deadly heat travels down to my core when his hand slips down my back, gripping the curve of my ass, and he lifts me. My legs lock around his hips, and neither of us breaks the kiss as he stumbles toward the cottage.

He drops me at the front door, pushing me back against the wall under the awning, and I’ve never seen him look so depraved.

“What do you want, Mila?” he grits between his teeth, and a shiver rolls through me.

“You,” I breathe. And before he can even tell me to use my words, I fill the silence for him. “Fuck me.”

“I can’t be gentle with you right now, Mila. You’ve pissed me off.” His hands vibrate against me, the vein in his forehead bulging with his heartbeat. I try to push his shirt up over his abs, but his hands catch mine.

“Right now, you need me soft. You need me to be patient. I can’t fucking go there with you, Mila. The thought of you being afraid of me fucking terrifies me.” Despite the rough growl in his voice, a tenderness blooms in my chest.

In an act of defiance, I reach between us, fisting him through the wet denim of his jeans and his jaw clenches. His hand comes up, dragging my head back at an almost uncomfortable angle to force my gaze to his.

My tongue darts out to lick the water off my lips. He watches the movement with dark clarity.

“Your darkness has never scared me, Christian,” I whisper, still stroking him despite the bloom of pain in my scalp. It only eggs me on, stoking the fire of the infernal burning need swirling in my stomach. “Only your absence.”

“Please?”

His tongue slides along his teeth, his eyes boring into mine like he can melt me where I stand.

“You remember your safe word?”

My stomach clenches, and I reach for the button on his jeans.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He catches my hand, stopping me. “If you need it, use it.” He nods towards the door. “Get inside.”

MILA

The air between us seems to cackle with electricity as that look in his eyes morphs into something inhuman. Demonic. I spin when he releases me, hurrying through the door, but I only make it as far as the kitchen table before his arms wrap around me, and he pushes me back against it.

In a flash, he lifts me, depositing me on the table and kicking chairs out of the way. One topples to the floor, but neither of us pays it any mind. His lips are back on mine, and he feasts on me, his hands gripping my knees to spread me wide and allowing him to step between them.

The moment his hand finds me, I gasp, surging against his hand.

“Who’s pussy is this, Mila?”

“Yours,” I whimper, and he growls. His other hand slides back into my hair, fisting the roots to force my gaze to his.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Mila.” With a snap and a sting on my skin, he tugs my panties until they rip off, falling down my leg. “I would rip the gates of heaven if God himself thought he could keep you from me, and I would raise hell just to drag you down there and fuck you on the throne.”

My heart flutters at his words, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. I don’t want to allow myself to believe him, but the desperation in his gaze, the tremor that rolls through him, can’t be ignored.

I whimper, my eyelashes fluttering on my cheeks when he slips a finger through my folds, gathering the wetness there and swirling it around. He slides that finger inside me, hissing out a breath through his teeth.

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