Page 36 of Never Fall for an Angel

“How can I trust you when you won’t even speak to me?” I whimper. He reaches beneath me, circling my clit with his fingers, and I jerk in his grasp.

He presses his lips to the side of my neck, nipping my flesh between his teeth. “Feel me, sweetheart. Feel how bad I need you.”

“You . . . left . . .” My body tightens, my orgasm threatening to steal my breath away.

He lets out a pained groan, burying his head into the side of my neck.

“It’s not forever,” he says, voice dark and hoarse. “You and I will never be done, Mila.”

My heart flutters, but before I can speak, the orgasm rips through me, leaving me shaking and wet while he continues to fuck me from behind. His hand comes over my mouth, silencing the cry that leaves my lips, and my legs give out underneath him.

He flattens out overtop me, continuing to pump inside me, and it feels so good, my eyes cross, and I swear I see stars.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he rasps, pulling me tighter against him until his back is pressed to my front completely. He continues to fuck me, the sound of our skin meeting filling the room, and his arms band around me, holding me tightly like he can’t stand the thought of letting me go.

“You’re so fucking pretty, it hurts to look at you,” he groans in my ear. His face nuzzles into the side of my neck and goosebumps break my skin. “I’m going fucking crazy without you. I had to see you.”

“Why are you doing this to us?” I ask, a choked sound breaking through my voice. “Why are you punishing me?”

“It has to be this way, Mila . . .” he bites out between rough breaths.

“You’re tearing me apart . . . I can’t live like this, Christian.”

“I know. Just trust me, Mila.” He presses soft lips to the side of my face. “Trust me,” he whispers in my ear.

The night passes in a frantic blur. When he’s not fucking me, he’s feasting on me. I punish him with my nails, my teeth. He takes it all, groaning at the pleasure and pain we unleash on one another.

When both of us are too tired to continue, he finally cleans me up and climbs into bed behind me, his arms around me while he holds me against his chest.

I don’t know what time it is when we stop. I’m too tired to open my eyes and look at the clock, but I can feel him. He’s here.

My skin is chaffed, my body sore and vibrating for how many times he made me come.

“Stay,” I whisper, even though I told myself I wouldn’t beg him.

The last memory I have is of his lips pressed against my cheek.

And when I wake in the morning, he’s gone.

PART TWO

NOW

CHRISTIAN

Witchita, July, Present

Goddamn, she’s beautiful.

“Get in the car, Mila.”

Poor thing is fucking terrified, which could have something to do with the man I just ran over—I didn’t buy this car with a special reinforced steel bumper for nothing. Dear ol’ Jerry’s going to be feeling it if he wakes up from his little nap in the middle of the street.

It could also be because the man she’s been running from for nearly six months finally caught up to her.

“W-what?” she stammers as screams erupt from across the street to where the dipshit’s body crumpled. I’m sad to say he moves, meaning he didn’t die.

Asshole.

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