Page 63 of The Pretty Savage

"But what if I want to know your deepest, darkest desires?" His voice dropped as he pressed his forehead to mine. "What if I want to know what makes you happy and what makes you smile? What if I want to keep you?" My breathing hitched at the last part, the dreams of a silly little girl spiraling out of control, but I snuffed them out, keeping them in check, because he definitely couldn't want all those things. No one ever did.

"Let's not pretend this is something special," I mumbled. "You don't want to know me, not really." His eyebrows scrunched, his mouth opening as if he was about to say something. "Let's not pretend you're here because you're looking for forever with a girl you barely know, Adrian. We both know you'd be lying, and one thing I hate more than anything else in this world are liars." Even if I was one right now. "We both know I will never find pearls in your ocean of misery, and that's fine."

It wasn't. Not really, but he couldn't just march up here and tell me he wanted everything from me, when I knew he would be lying. There was not a single person on this planet that could want something like that from someone like me. There was not a version of my life in which happy and good things could happen.

So I wasn't going to make myself believe in a fairy tale when they were reserved for people better than me.

"Maybe you're wrong," he finally said, his words holding a meaning I didn't want to unwrap right now, if ever. "Maybe I am tired of living in that ocean of misery, Bambi." He put everything behind those words, telling me, showing me with his eyes, but I couldn't trust it. I couldn't fucking trust him.

"No." I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck. As much as I wanted to bask in the warmth of those words, and as much as I wanted to believe everything he said, this man was like a walking bipolar disorder. In one moment he wanted me dead, while in the next he wanted everything from me.

It was tiring trying to keep up with this game of hot and cold, and I'd be damned if I allowed myself to love him when he could never love me back. Because I was tired of loving people that would never love me back. I was fucking tired of always being second best. I wanted someone to choose me, to pick me and say they were waiting their entire life for me.

And Adrian Zylla wasn't that person.

His head dipped down until our faces were mere inches apart, consuming me with the way he looked at me, telling me without so many words that he didn't like what he heard but wasn't going to argue.

Of course he wasn't.

We both knew I could've fought him off, pushed him away, done something to get away from this situation, but I didn't. I wanted him as much as he wanted me, and I wasn't going to deny myself the things I wanted. Not anymore.

If this entire mission ended up in flames, at least I would know for once in my life that I chose myself and my own desires over the ones The Schatten tried to saddle me with.

And when he crashed his lips to mine, unforgivingly taking everything I had to give, seeking more with every stroke of his tongue against my own, I knew what this was.

This wasn't love. This was pure hate, and we were getting consumed by it.

His hands disappeared in my hair, pulling and tugging, playing my body the way he wanted it. My nails scratched over his nape, earning a growl my lips swallowed and before long, he had me lifted up in his arms, carrying us farther away from the crypt and toward one of the graves. I could no longer see the small path that supposedly led toward the temple Dante had mentioned, letting Adrian do whatever the fuck he wanted with me.

I felt alive with goosebumps jumping all over my skin. His hands felt strong underneath my butt, handling me with the same determination I saw earlier. His body buzzed with energy when he finally let go of me, placing me on top of a tomb, covered with what might have been marble once upon a time.

My legs shook, the nerves eating at every single piece of my sanity, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But common sense prevailed for just one second, intruding on the moment and flooding my mind with reality.

He wasn’t mine.

He could never be mine and I had to stop this.

I opened my mouth, ready to stop this, ready to get out of here, but before I could say anything, Adrian slid between my legs, capturing my mouth once again.

He kissed me like a man possessed, like he couldn't get enough of me, and every single thought I had of getting away from him dissipated into thin air. Snow landed on his dark hair, creating a perfect contrast just as he slid his hand over my chest, playing with my covered nipples that were pushing through the thin material of my sports bra. My back arched, my eyes latching on to that self-satisfied smirk on his face, just as he started his descent toward my pants.

"Perfect," he murmured to himself as he unbuttoned my pants and I lifted my ass, letting him slip them down my legs. My boots followed and within seconds, he had me half naked and panting in front of him.

My eyes landed on his hard cock, straining against the material of his pants, while my mouth salivated at the mere thought of having him inside me. I could feel the slickness between my legs, and without preamble, my hand slid over my chest, my stomach, and down toward my folds, playing with myself.

The first stroke of my fingers against my clit had me arching again, pushing toward him, but it wasn't enough.

"Adrian," I moaned, closing my eyes as image after image flashed behind my closed eyelids, picturing him above me, his muscles straining, his mouth set into a firm line as he held himself back from coming, as he fucked me. My eyes flashed open, connecting with his, and only then did I realize that he had pulled down his pants, stroking his cock slowly, leisurely, following my every move.

I had never cared much about the male appendage, at least not until now. It existed for one thing and one thing only, and there was never anything worthy of salivating over.

But Adrian's cock… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I wanted to wrap my lips around the reddish head and pull softly with my teeth. I wanted him to lose control and give me all the power he wielded. I wanted to feel the weight of him in my hand as I stroked him up and down, going faster and faster with each stroke, until he would shout into the abyss, showing me how much he loved what I did.

"Look at you, my little goddess," he rasped, his voice caressing my soul in ways I didn't know were possible. He approached me slowly, his eyes firmly plastered to the spot where my fingers danced over my clit. "You were made for me."

Adrian dropped down to his knees, taking a hold of my hand and bringing it to his lips, licking my fingers with his eyes closed, groaning with each new lick. "You taste like heaven, Bambi," he murmured, while my heart thumped furiously. "And I am never letting you go," he pushed out, just as his eyes connected with mine, filled with so much conviction I almost believed him.

Almost.

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