Page 84 of The Kiss Of Death
“Okay?” she questioned with a frown.
“I won’t interfere with your music.”
“You promise?”
I had a bad feeling. The kind where if she were to say please, I’d obey anything she could ask. “Yes.”
“You’re twisted.”
I spun her around so her back would face my front, my length already pulsing in my trousers. “Are we back to when you list all of my qualities?”
“You’re also vile.”
My lips hovered near her neck, and I nibbled on her ear. “And you lied to me.”
“When?”
“When I asked you if you had the slightest bit of attraction for me in your dorm?”
She remained silent and attempted to break free from my grip, but I held firm, my fingers constricting around hers, compelling her to suffocate against my body. If she wanted to play it rough, we could.
“You crossed your fingers behind your back. You wanted me. And you’ll pay for your lie, but for now—” My hands firmly grasped her waist, and with a swift movement, I compelled her to twirl around, bringing her face-to-face with me. “I’ll fuckingtake what the both of us have been craving. I’m done waiting. I’ve given you enough time.”
“Levi,” she breathed. “I’ve never said I was yours.”
I caressed the soft skin of her cheek, and she leaned into my touch. She was becoming mine by the second, even if she didn’t realize it. “I’m going to kiss you, Dalia. So now, are you going to accept that destructive and disgusting bond that is between us?”
I fisted her hair, yanked her to me, and crashed my mouth with hers in the middle of the whole crowd.
My therapist believed I was starving for affection. I remembered his exact words.Forcing someone to stay with you, like you did with that butterfly, isn’t the solution, Levi. You can’t make someone love you back. You can’t force things. Every living thing deserves a choice.
Like hell. Dalia was my new butterfly, and I couldn’t care less.
We wouldn’t be here right now if I had given her a choice from the start. I wouldn’t be branding my lips against her, my tongue tangling with hers, stealing all of her breaths and knowing how perfectly her curves fit in my palms.
Still holding her hand, I weaved us through the crowd of students, nudging aside anyone who dared to obstruct our path. I steered us toward a secluded area—a dimly lit marbled hallway veiled by closed curtains, hidden from view.
“Levi, what are you doing?” she whimpered, and I shoved her back into one of the walls between two lit-up ornate sconces.
I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. “Something I should have done weeks ago.”
I cupped her mouth in another kiss. More urgent. More demanding. Sucking the sweetness out of her. Her teeth sank into my lips, and I gripped her throat, feeling the pulse of her beating heart. I squeezed—not enough to choke her but enough to feel her quiver. I trailed my kisses down to her collarbone, herneck, sucking and nipping, getting high on her orange scent and on the aftermath of the sugary pink blend of her lips.
“What if people see us?” she moaned, and, God, that moan, it got me feral.
“Then they’ll mysteriously disappear and would never live to talk about it,” I rasped.
I captured her lower lip between my teeth and slipped my hand to clasp her ass, my cock straining in my pants.
“Levi,” she complained, half moaning.
“What? I’d prefer not to commit murder, but if it comes to that, I will, and don’t forget it’ll all be because of you.”
Her soft fingers cradled my hair, and my rotten heart exploded in my chest. She clung to me, all of my muscles tensing. I wasn’t used to the feeling of her skin, of her touching me back. I seized her hands as they trailed down my chest and locked them above her head with one hand. I dragged my free hand over her thigh underneath her puffy dress.
“I’d take a first from you tonight, Dalia,” I warned her, caressing her on top of her wet cotton panty. “You’re so wet, little thief. Now be a good girl and part your legs for me.”
Her cheeks flushed red. “Levi… What are you doing?”
