Page 185 of Never Fall for an Angel

I’m suddenly acutely aware of how much I’ve been aching for him in the last three weeks.

“You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you?” When I don’t answer, he steps even closer, and the brush of his body against mine has heat gathering between my thighs. His fingers capture a lock of my hair, twisting the strands. Somehow, I feel his touch between my legs. “You think I could look at another woman while all I see is you? You and that soft fucking heart and those beautiful fucking eyes that make me feel like I’m losing my goddamned mind.”

“Christian . . . I . . .”

“Do you know what I’d do to another man if I found out he’d touched you?” he asks, and my hands come between us, fisting the material of his button-up beneath his open suit jacket. “

“I’d start by cutting off each of his fingers for daring to touch what’s mine. While he bled out, I’d let him watch me fuck you. Let him see how badly you beg for my cock in your pretty little cunt. Then when you were satisfied, I’d slice his dick off and feed it to him while he bled out at your feet.”

I shiver at his admission, sucking in a shaky breath. He moves closer until his lips are at my ear, his breath tingling against the side of my neck.

God, I want him. I want him bad enough that my body feels like it’s vibrating with need.

All our drama, baggage. None of it matters at this very moment because all I can think about is how badly I’ve missed him. How when he showed up in the bedroom last night, it felt likehomehad come to me.

Then leave. . .

With a rush of resentment, I shove him back. Harder than I would have thought I could.

He looks startled before the look in his eyes is replaced with a dark, searing warmth.

I shove him again, and this time, he catches me around the waist, the twist of a wry smile on his lips when he pulls me into him. And then, the moment our eyes meet, something in me snaps.

Lunging for him, I press my lips to his, and he tugs me against every inch of his hard body, the growl reverberating through him the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.

His tongue licks into my mouth, the taste of whiskey, mint, and tobacco on his breath. My back hits the wall, and my arms wrap around his neck. He hoists me tighter against him, pressing my knees apart.

We’re all nails and teeth and heavy breaths and absolute chaos as the three weeks we’ve been apart finally catch up to us.

He groans roughly, only breaking the kiss long enough to let me shrug his suit jacket down his arms. He reaches between us, popping the button on his dress pants and fisting his rock-hard cock in his hand. I grip the buttons of his shirt, and he stops me by ripping the remaining few away, scattering them on the hardwood floor.

I whimper, body on fire, and a desperate urge to feel him inside me consuming me. He fists my dress, hoisting it up around my waist, and takes my knee, locking it around his hip in a quick, fluid motion.

“Mine,” he rasps against my lips. Then, his mouth is back on mine, and he’s sinking two fingers inside me. My back arches away from the wall, my knee tightening around him. My fingers run along the bruises and tattoos that cover his abs and chest.

“Yours,” I breathe, eyes half-lidded and hazy when he lines himself up at my entrance.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

And then he’s sinking balls deep inside me.

“Fuck.” His head falls to my shoulder with a feral groan.

“Oh my God,” I cry out, my head knocking back to hit the wall.

“Not God, baby,” he rasps, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Me. Only fucking me.”

He fucks me like he’s trying to brand himself on my soul. He doesn’t realize he’s already there. Our bodies meld together against the wall, his breathing rough and my heart pounding in my chest.

The sound of his hips against mine echo in the space between us as he fucks me with a brutal pace.

“Please, Christian,” I moan, my nails digging into the muscles of his back.

It’s not enough. It’s never enough. I need to stake my claim on him as violently as he does me.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, forcing my legs wider with his hips and powering into me. There’s a reverence in the way he fucks me. Like touching me is as vital to him as breathing.

“Christian?”

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