Page 22 of Never Fall for an Angel

“What would you do?” My voice is barely above a whisper. His jaw tightens, and though I step into him until my front is pressed against his, he doesn’t step back. I can feel every hard inch of him against me, his cock sitting heavily between us.

I blame the three glasses of champagne I’ve had for my boldness, but I know it’s him.

With my gaze trained on his, I down the rest of the champagne in my glass. Call it liquid courage. Call it the plain stupidity of a naïve young girl. I know I’m playing with fire. This is farther than either of us has ever gone with one another, but now that I’ve started, I’m not sure if a nuke could get me to stop.

I place my fingers on his chest, feeling his heartbeat just a little bit faster.

The intoxicating scent of leather, whiskey, and the forest washes over me, stealing my breath and going straight to my head.

Walking my fingers upward, his eyes never leave mine, and my heart flutters with their intensity. He smirks devilishly, andfor the first time since I’ve known him, I can see that carefully constructed steel control is in danger of collapsing.

“Would you punish me?” My tongue darts out to lick my lips, and his stare follows the movement, his gaze warmer and heavier than the brush of my tongue.

For the last two years, this cat-and-mouse game has been the only thing that’s kept me sane. This innate desire to garner a reaction from him to let me know I’m not going crazy on my own. That there’s something there, despite his incessant need to fight it tooth and nail.

A twinkle of something dark and repressed flashes across his gaze before it’s replaced with a calm clarity that stirs something unsettling inside me. He steps closer until my back hits the balustrade stone behind me, arching over.

God, he’s tall.

At this angle, I’m barely grazing his collarbone as he looms over me. His gaze burns into mine, and my thighs grow slick with my own traitorous need.

Maybe I do have a death wish.

“What do you know of the world, little devil?” he asks, his voice dark and low, sending a tingle up my spine as his breath fans across my face.

“I know men like you are dangerous for girls like me,” I breathe before I can stop myself.

Carefully, he reaches up, his fingers brushing a curl off my forehead. Tingles erupt from the smallest of touches, the heat from his fingers slipping through me as he watches for my reaction.

I swallow past the lump in my throat when he leans closer, inches away from my mouth. I can taste the mint of his toothpaste and the rawness of the whiskey on his breath, andmy mouth waters. I force myself to meet his gaze, the deep blue depths dragging me down into the pits of the Mariana Trench.

“Do you know what I would do to you when I caught you?”

Pressed between him and the stone railing, a dangerous heat spreads through me.

Dangerous because even if I know my fate, it’s nice to pretend that even if just for a night, I didn’t have to be Mila Carpenter, the daughter of a wealthy socialite. I could just be Mila. His.

Yep, he’s definitely the devil.

“I’d break you,” he murmurs, leaning forward until his nose is traveling up the column of my neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine despite the warm May air. “Shatter you into a million little pieces, and when I put you back together, you’d be too addicted to what I can do to you to ever leave.” His lips press to the shell of my ear, and my heart beats a little faster. My body feels like it’s been dipped in lava, my core warm and my nipples straining under my dress that’s pressed against his chest. “You’d be obsessed with my fingers . . .” His fingertips trail up my forearm, over the goosebumps on my skin. “My mouth . . .” He presses a kiss so light to the side of my neck that I barely feel it. “My cock . . .” I can feel his erection digging into my stomach at this angle. “You’d be mine to do with as I please, and not even death would allow you to escape me.”

I let out a shaky breath, my eyes screwed shut as I fight the tingling sensation in my veins, begging me to move closer. Forget about the world, my mother’s plans to marry me off, and the fact that inside, dozens of million-dollar people are milling about at another one of Marcus’s parties and just feel him.

Against my own will, my head tilts to the side, granting him better access where his stubble drags against the smooth skin of my neck.

He presses the lightest of kisses to the bare skin of my throat, where it meets my shoulder. The sensation goes straight to my core, and a need unlike anything I’ve ever felt before throbs between my legs.

He chuckles darkly, lingering against my skin for a moment longer until I feel like I’m either going to spontaneously combust or faint from the electricity vibrating in the air between us.

His lips brush mine in the lightest of touches, but he doesn’t kiss me. My head spins, a quiet sigh slipping free when his tongue glides along my bottom lip.

“Remember that the day you decide to run.”

He lingers against my skin for a moment longer until I feel like I’m either going to spontaneously combust or faint from the electricity vibrating in the air between us.

And with that, he steps back, allowing a wash of cool air to meet my skin.

I shiver at the loss of him, straightening against the balustrade and glaring at him just as the door behind him opens.

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