Page 63 of Never Fall for an Angel

“Your stepfather?”

“Us.”

He’s quiet, and something slips across his gaze. Before I can read his expression, it’s gone.

To say I’ve fallen in love with Christian Cross is an understatement. I’m obsessed with him. The darkness in hisgaze and the way it sends shivers down my spine. The way he kisses me, as if he’s dying to taste me and he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t. How he laughs and how his hand feels in mine. His rough callouses against my home manicure.

“You need to forget about me, little devil.”

Forget? That’s impossible. I know as well as he does that a part of me will always crave him. Need him with every fiber of my being.

Right person, wrong lifetime.

Oddly, the thought makes my chest ache.

Before he can see the tears burning in the backs of my eyes, I close the distance between us, kissing him. He lets me, his hand sliding up to the back of my head to pull me closer. I love his roughness, as if he’s barely holding on by a thread. I love how much bigger he is than me when he covers my body with his, careful not to put all his weight on me. Like I’m breakable, but his to break.

“Christian,” I breathe against his lips, a fire scorching through my veins. “I want you.”

“Mila,” he warns, his voice rough and his hands tightening in my hair. He’s told me no a thousand times. What’s one more?

“Please,” I breathe, my hand slipping between our bodies. I watch his reaction when I fist his hard cock through his jeans. His eyes grow dark, his jaw feathering, and I swear I feel it growing in my hand.

His fingers tighten in my hair, roughly dragging my head back and his gaze searches mine.

“I’m not the man for you, Mila.”

You’re the only man for me.

“Please, Christian?” I try again, my voice so soft, it’s barely legible over the rain pounding the roof over our heads. “I want it to be you.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath when I tease him, reaching for the button on his jeans. He places his hand over mine, but he doesn’t stop me when I pop it through the loop.

I have no idea what I’m doing, but when I lower his zipper and reach inside his boxers, running my fingers over the smooth skin of his erection, he inhales sharply, his eyes as dark as night.

While I’ve got him compliant, I lean forward, despite the bites of pain in my scalp from his fingers, and press my lips to his. I don’t even know if he knows how hard he’s gripping the roots of my hair, but the pain stirs me on. I kiss him gently, and he doesn’t kiss me back when I wrap my fist around him, stroking him slowly from root to tip.

I’ve never had a dick in my hands before, but judging by how much is left that my hand can’t cover, Christian’s size is impressive. My mouth waters when I press my lips back to his, my tongue darting out to lick the seam between his lips. Wetness leaks from the head of his cock, and I stroke him again, needing to know that he feels the same way I do. That I’m not going insane on my own.

“Fuck, Mila,” he grits, his hand catching mine and stilling my fingers. He leans his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged, and I don’t move, my hand still wrapped around his cock. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, little devil.”

“I do.” I nod against him, swallowing past the lump in my throat. For months, he’s made me come over and over until my legs are shaking, and I’m passing out in his arms. For months, I’ve begged for him, needing to feel him without any barriers, and he’s denied me. If he didn’t keep showing up in my roomevery night, I’d think he just wasn’t that into me, but he keeps coming back, and I keep allowing it.

“You’re going to hate me when this is done.”

Unfortunately, I don’t think I could ever hate him.

“No.”

“Why me, Mila?” he rasps, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “I can’t give you what you deserve.”

I shake my head, letting out a shaky breath. I slip my hand out of his jeans and up the hard ridges of his abs under his shirt. I want to feel him. Soak in his warmth and never leave the back of this Suburban.

“Because it’s always been you,” I breathe. I don’t want anyone else. It has to be him.

My fingers reach his chest, and his heart beats fast under my fingers. I would smile, but I’m too enraptured with him to even move. The way he holds me like he can’t bear to lose me. The way his eyes consume me, devouring me until I’m stripped bare of all my secrets.

I can see him at war with himself. Fighting with whatever demons he’s been running from. I want to take them away. Make him feel what I feel.

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