Page 67 of Fortress of the King

He kisses my hair. “Make all of what okay,Carina?” He tilts my chin up to look into my eyes, then he slowly steers me back toward the couch and I’m forced to sit on the arm when my legs hit the back of it.

“This!Whateverthisis. You make me come undone.”

His lips twitch. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore,” I whisper.

He crouches down in front of me. I open my legs and pull the robe back, exposing everything to him. “This is what you want, isn’t it, Angelo?”

“Yes, I do want it, you’re fucking gorgeous, but you’re also drunk,Carina.”

I’m aware of all the stupid things I’m saying and doing, but I’m helpless to stop it, and why the fuck does he care if I’m drunk or not?

That’s got to be better than this. I can handle anything,exceptthis. I don’t need him to be nice.

I don’t want honesty or him looking at me like this, like I’m something to pity. It makes me feel weak. I only want to forget.

“I’m not drunk!” I protest.

“You sure about that?”

“Would you like a glass?” I offer.

He shakes his head.

“What do you need, Angelo?”

“That’s surely a rhetorical question.”

My craving for him isn’t normal. It’s sick, but I still need him nonetheless. Only he can quench the thirst.

“Tell me.”

“You,Carina. I need you.”

I bite my lip and then shrug my robe down my arms.

His eyes dip down my body; the fiery look he gives me makes my toes tingle. There is no man on the planet capable of making me feel like this, that is for sure. And I want to revel in it for just a little longer. I should know the rules about playing with fire, but I’m so far into this twisted, sick deal I’ve been bribed into that reality and fantasy are starting to look the same — the lines are well and truly blurred.

“Then come and take me,” I tell him.

Every time I let Angelo take me, I lose a little bit of my soul. I tell myself that it’s because I have no choice, but that’s a lie. All of it’s a lie.

“Not like this, Rayne, even I draw the line somewhere.”

I look at him, confused. “Right, you’re a man of principals, aren’t you?” I can’t hide the sarcasm in my voice. “It’s all for the greater good.”

“You say that like you don’t believe it.” He tilts his head.

“You’re a mob boss. You own this town.”

He stalks over to me quickly, cupping my face with his hands, the movement so sudden that I jump back in fright. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say it.”

“You kill people,” I whisper.

“Only those who deserve it, yes.”

“You choose who lives or dies. You play God.”

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