Page 31 of Never Fall for an Angel

“Talk to me,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over my lip.

I shake my head.

“I just feel like this isn’t the end.”

His gaze darkens, his jaw clenching. His thumb strokes my cheek, then slips down to cup my chin.

“It’s over, Mila. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

I haven’t told Christian about Mr. Unknown. I don’t want him to worry. Things are finally starting to slow down. The last thing everyone needs is to be worried about my little stalker problem.

—Because that’s all it is. A little stalker issue that will eventually come to an end. I’m not that interesting. Eventually, Mr. Unknown will tire of following me around, and I’ll never hear from him again.

And, then, I can’t help but wonder . . . when will Christian tire of me, too?

“Is it over for you?” I ask quietly, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears.

“Stop that,” he murmurs. His thumb strokes over the tear on my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

Fuck. I grit my teeth, hating myself for even feeling this way about something that I knew was transient from the moment it started six months ago.

“Stop what?” I whisper, lifting up to press my lips to his. If he’s kissing me, he’s here, right? And if he’s here, he’s mine, at least, for now.

Christian lets me kiss him for only a moment before he pulls back, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Mila.”

I shake my head. I can’t tell him how I feel.

How longing glances across crowded rooms and secret dates in the back of blacked-out Surburbans or darkened beaches at night aren’t enough anymore. Holding his hand to release it the moment we pull into the driveway at my mother’s new mansion or how falling asleep in his arms after he snuck into my room only to wake up alone guts me.

I don’t just want him. I need him. The irony is almost laughable.

“Please, just kiss me,” I whisper, needing him to chase the racing thoughts out of my head. He searches my gaze, an expression I can’t read on his face. My heart stretches out for his, begging for his touch, and tears sting in the backs of my eyes. I push all my emotions away and focus on what I can control.

He and I, in this very moment, where no one is demanding anything from either of us and we’re free to fall in love, even if it’s only for a moment.

“Please.”

He nods once and slowly closes the gap between us, his lips feasting on mine and a groan tearing up his throat that renders my heart immobile in my chest.

I love you. . . I whisper in the back of my head because I can’t say it out loud.

When he rolls me over, my legs straddling both of his, I reach between us for his zipper and pull him into my palm. He’s burning hot, searing my skin when he groans and pushes inside me with a shudder. My head falls back, my gaze locking with the moon, and everything feels complete.

It may be toxic . . . this need I have to feel him. It may be pathetic.

Nothing matters as long as we’re together in this moment.

“Fuck, Mila,” he groans against the side of my throat. My nails scour the back of his neck, my heart racing, and my thighs slick when he moves me over him, my skirt bunched around us while he uses his hands on my ass to drive up into me.

“Please don’t stop,” I whisper, my pussy clenching around him and the impending orgasm drawing closer and closer.

“Never, baby,” he rasps, and I capture his lips with my own, my heart soaring.

He’s never called me baby before.

“Grind on my cock, sweetheart,” he rasps, his groin brushing against my clit, sending my eyes rolling. “Show me how bad you need me, Mila.”

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