Page 51 of Fallen Prince

I stepped out of the shadows before I could stop myself. She turned to me with a soft gasp, slightly alarmed at my sudden presence.

And fuck, I loved that little flash of trepidation in her lovely eyes. I imagined her looking at me like that when I stripped her naked and shoved her against the wall to claim her with raw passion. It was perverted. Wrong.

“Hi,” she said on a soft exhale, and the breathy sound went straight to my cock.

I swayed away from her slightly, as though I could resist her magnetic pull.

“Are you coming inside?” she demanded when I said nothing.

I crossed my arms over my chest to preventmyself from reaching for her. She was infuriating and impossibly alluring when she turned that challenging green stare on me.

“You don’t want me to do that,” I warned in my darkest, most dangerous tone. I couldn’t seem to force myself to walk away, but if she closed the door between us, maybe she would sever the madness that drew us together.

She scoffed and tossed her shining copper hair. “I wouldn’t have texted you if I didn’t want you to come inside.”

My muscles flexed with the effort of restraining myself from pulling her into my arms and kissing away that defiant pout.

I shook my head, scowling at her. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

If she knew that Russian blood had coated my hands only hours ago, she’d run screaming. Like she should.

Her chin lifted, and her eyes flashed. “Then why don’t you tell me? What would you do if you came inside with me, Max?”

Something snapped in my mind, and all the filthy, greedy things I wanted to do to her spilled from my lips. “I’d pin you against the wall and kiss you until you stop arguing with me. I wouldn’t begentle. I would taste every inch of your hot little body. I would make you moan my name and beg before I finally let you come.”

Her full lips parted on a delicious little gasp, and for a heated, quivering moment, she didn’t respond.

“Prove it,” she whispered.

My mouth clashed with hers, fire licking at my veins the moment we collided in a rush of desperate need and raw lust. I craved to take her, tame her. I grasped her jaw, tipping her head back to erase the defiant tilt to her chin. She opened for me on a moan, melting in my arms. Giving me everything I demanded.

It wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get enough of her.

“More,” she panted against my lips, tilting her hips toward mine in a mindless attempt to get impossibly closer.

My hand sank into her ass, gripping her hard through her tight little skirt so I could tug her toward my aching cock. I wanted to bury myself inside her tight virgin cunt. I wanted to feel her squeezing my dick as her untried body struggled to accept me.

She would accept me. She’d take all of me.

Suddenly, her door was open, and she pulled me across the threshold, her delicate arms like iron chains drawing me wherever she led. Her slenderfingers fisted in my shirt, holding me close as she kissed me in a frenzy. We moved through her shadow-draped foyer and living room, making our way to her bedroom. I knew exactly where we were going; I’d memorized the layout of her home on the night I’d searched the place and kidnapped her.

I shoved that memory away before it could sour the moment. There was no room in my head for darkness or doubt. Not when I had her in my arms, hot and whimpering as I nipped at her lush lips before tracing them with my tongue.

My hands were grasping at her clothes by the time we arrived in her bedroom, half of the buttons on her blouse already undone. She grabbed my shirt and shoved it up my torso, tugging it over my head. I shrugged it off, and her dainty hands roved over my chest and abs, tracing the contours of my muscles. She paused when she touched one of the thick, ridged scars on my stomach.

Growling, I shoved that dark memory away too. I wrenched her blouse down her arms, forcing her touch away from the indelible mark that’d been carved into me on the worst day of my life.

“Max,” she murmured, my name edged with soft protest. The concern in her voice threatened to shredme. She wanted to ask about the scar. Knowing her kind nature, she probably wanted to soothe me.

I had no room in my heart for gentleness now. Her tender touch would shatter me.

I was the one in control here. I controlled her body, her pleasure. Allie was in my power now. She was mine.

My fingers wrapped around her wrists, shackling her as I backed her up against the wall. I pinned her hands above her head, holding them in one of my own. My free hand fisted in her skirt, shoving it up her thighs to expose her panties.

She gasped into my mouth, her lips forming my name again. I didn’t allow her to speak; I didn’t want to hear another word until she was ready to start begging. That was what I needed now: sweet, innocent Allie, panting and whimpering for her release. The release only I could give her. I needed it with a savage desperation that would’ve rocked me to my core if I allowed myself to pause and recognize my madness.

She cried out at the first brush of my fingers over her pussy. I could feel her wetness through her underwear. She was already slick with desire for me.

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