Page 53 of His Angel

“How is it not the same?”

“I’m not like you.”

I scowl. “You think because I’m more skilled in the art of fucking than you are, that I’d be more inclined to screw someone else? That I’d savor the taste of some other woman’s lips, enjoy the feel of her cunt, what? Just because I can?”

Her eyes narrow. “Your family runs a sex club. You’re a Del Rossa. You’ve never been faithful to anyone. Never had to.”

“Because I never loved anyone before you!” I snap, slamming my fist into the wall next to her face. “I tore the world apart searching for you. I killed more men in the weeks you were gone than I did my entire life combined. I killed someone in a motherfucking church for you, Everly. You really think I’d go through all that trouble if simply fucking another woman to get you out of my system was an option for me?”

She doesn’t say a word, just sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, gaze locked on mine, fierce and unyielding but soft at the edges, like she’s weighing me.

I grab her jaw, firmly enough to bite, and bring my lips close to hers so she can taste my truth.

“I’m an over-the-top, jealous, possessive motherfucker who will not apologize for wanting you—all of you—mine and mine alone. Anthony, any other bastard—I’d rip their throats out before they got close, ’cause you’re my fucking world, Everly Beaumont.”

My voice drops, rough and raw.

“But me asking if he fucked you isn’t because I think you’re some cheap, back-alley whore. I asked because I see you with him in my head sometimes, see him touching you, kissing you.” I brush my lips lightly on hers. “Making you come, and it fucking guts me, baby,” I grit out. “It fucks me up in here.” I press my finger against my temple. “And here.” I tap my chest right over my heart. “Don’t you get it? I’m not asking to judge you. I’m not asking because I think you’re cheap. I’m asking so I can fight the image of him touching you…before it destroys me.”

Her breath hitches, eyes flaring wide, and then—fuck—she snaps. Her hands fly to my face, fingers digging into my jaw, and she kisses me hard, wild, like she’s trying to swallow my words, my soul.

“Goddamn you,” she gasps against my lips, voice breaking. “You’re insane, Isaia, and I hate how much I love it.” Her nails rake down my neck, sparking fire, and she presses herself closer, tits crushing against my chest, heat radiating off her.

“You love me losing my fucking mind over you?” I growl, hands dropping to her hips, yanking her against me. My cock’s hard again—painfully hard—and I grind it into her, feeling her shudder. She’s naked, still slick from before, and her moan’s a raw, desperate sound that lights me up.

“Yes,” she breathes, hands clawing at my shirt, ripping it up, and I’m done—done talking, done thinking.

Lifting her fast, her legs wrap my hips, tight and greedy, and I shove my pants down just enough, freeing my cock. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what it is I need to hear.”

A whimper slides past her lips. “I’m yours, Isaia.”

I thrust into her—hard, no warning—and she cries out, head banging the wall, pussy clenching me like a vise.

“All yours,” she pants, nails gouging my shoulders. “Just yours. Oh, God.”

My cock’s nailing her against the wall, each push pulling a grunt from me and a gasp from her. Each snap of my hips a claim, a purge of that Anthony motherfucker in my head.

Her heat swallows me, so wet, so tight, I can barely breathe through it. And she’s as lost as I am. I’m pulling her under with me, dragging her to the darkness.

I shouldn’t like it, but I do. I fucking love it.

The thought of her embracing my brand of crazy possession thrills and scares me at the same damn time. All this intensity, the madness, the obsession, it’s got the potential to turn into our own personal Romeo and Juliette ending. But fuck, I can’t think of a better way to go.

“It was never him,” she pants. “There was never a chance of me letting him touch me, not after you made me yours.”

“Fuck, baby girl.” I pound into her, the wall rattling with every thrust.

“I would rather die than have another man come near me.”

Fuuuuuck.She’s telling me everything she knows I need to hear. “Only me.” I piston in and out of her. “Only my cock. My cum. My fucking world.”

Her screams shred the air as I bruise her thighs, her legs trembling, and I feel her pussy pulse.

“Tell me you want my cum,” I grit out.

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