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“Yeah, okay. You’ve made your fucking point,” I hiss, missing his lips more than I’m sure is healthy. “Now teach me how to fix it.”

He leans over me, his hard cock grinding against my arse as his burning breath races down my neck, making me shiver beneath him.

“I’ll teach you anything you want, beautiful. And I’m really hoping you make it hurt.”

“Psychopath,” I mutter, much to his amusement. “That’s meant to be an insult.”

“Remember who you’re talking to, Angel. Pain and torture is almost as vital to me as air and water.”

“Then show me how to make it hurt, devil boy.”

As if I’m nothing more than a rag doll for him, he scoops me up and plants me on my feet.

“Show me what you’ve got then, beautiful,” he says, holding his hands out to the side to give me an easy shot.

I harden my glare as I run my eyes down his tempting body.

He’s hiding behind his black armour again, and I don’t like it.

“I’m not putting you on your arse until I’m wearing underwear,” I state confidently, as if there’s even a slim chance of me being able to do that.

“You look perfectly dressed to me.”

“You look overdressed to me,” I counter.

“Fine.” He smirks, reaching behind him to pull his shirt from his body. “We even?” he asks.

My eyes drop to his chest, eating up the inches of toned skin before me.

Each of his scars makes my heart ache for him, and the mystery behind most makes my head spin with possibilities.

Especially the burns.

“This way, when I get you back under me, I get easy access to what I want most.”

His arrogant smirk makes my fists curl, a move he doesn’t miss.

“Come on then, Angel. I want to see that fire you hide inside. I know it’s there. I’ve seen it.”

I stare at him as he prowls closer.

“I want to experience how you really feel every time you realise you’ve been kept in the dark. I want to know how useless you feel every time we tell you to stay home, when we lock you up like a useless little princess and keep you wrapped in cotton wool.”

“Daemon,” I growl, anger licking at my insides, my blood beginning to heat.

“You want to break free, beautiful? You want to show your dad, Nico, all the guys, that you’re not someone who should be overlooked? You want to prove your worth, show that you’re as capable as Stella and Emmie?”

A growl of anger erupts from my throat as I fly at him.

I’m not totally useless. The girls have been teaching me the basics for weeks. I can throw a punch, and I could probably take a weak opponent down at this point. But I don’t have any intentions of going up against someone weak. I want to take on the strong, the powerful and the most formidable men in our city. I want to take down the devil and then watch him morph back into the guy I’m falling for faster than I thought possible as he stares at me with pride and awe in his eyes because he realises for real that I’m not just some innocent angel sent to make little Cirillo heirs.

My fist lands on his ribs and a grunt falls from his lips as his eyes widen in surprise at the force behind it.

His hands lift on instinct, protecting his body, but I quickly work around them.

“You going easy on me, Devil?” I taunt when he makes no move to strike back despite the fact that my knuckles are raw and I’ve got sweat rolling down my back.

The sun has barely risen above the horizon, but I’m melting. The air around us is a beautiful shade of orange as everything begins to come to life.