Page 11

I ’m hanging on by a fucking thread.

She’s standing there in my shirt— my shirt —and nothing else, bare ass, long legs, and all that soft fucking skin within reach. Finally.

Her plump lips are parted just enough, those wild eyes wide, pupils blown. And it’s enough to make me lose my goddamn mind.

Oh, I see her. She’s watching me.

Not afraid.

Not unsure.

Wanting.

Just waiting to see what I’ll do. And I know it’s because I was a fucking idiot before. I turned her down.

Still, this isn’t a game.

It’s not a tease.

She’s giving me a choice.

This beautiful Diamond Girl is actually asking me to decide.

Me? Can you believe that?

Only, it doesn’t feel like a choice to me. Not anymore.

It feels like gravity.

Like a force is pulling me straight into her orbit and I can’t possibly resist.

God knows, I’ve been trying. But maybe that’s why this ache I have, the one with her name on it, is so damn big.

I’ve wanted Lucy since the first time I saw her. I’ve craved her. Coveted her.

And she’s right.

I’ve waited too damn long to take what’s mine.

So, without another word— without a prayer to save my wretched soul —I reach out for the one woman I know I don’t deserve, and I crush my beggar’s mouth to her perfect one.

Fuck.

It’s better than I imagined.

Hot. Desperate. Explosive.

Lucy tastes like honey and seduction.

Like sin wrapped in silk.

And it’s my new favorite flavor.

She gasps against my lips, then melts into me like she was made for this, made for me.

Her arms fly around my neck, fingers diving into my hair, and I’m drowning in her— scent, taste, the way she moans when I bite her bottom lip just hard enough to feel it.

She shouldn’t fit here, not like this.

Not in my arms.

Not in my life.

But she does.

Like she was always meant to.

Maybe there’s a reason you have to dig deep to find diamonds.

They don’t come easy.

You have to tear through earth, stone, and time just to catch a glimpse.

You have to break things open.

Get your hands dirty.

Go where no one else wants to go.

Because diamonds don’t live on the surface.

They’re buried.

Hidden in the dark.

Like the real ones always are.

They’re not made for showroom lights or glass cases.

Not just for glitz and compliments and people pointing from a distance.

They’re made for pressure.

For survival.

Maybe they shine because they were forged under fire.

Because the heat didn’t break them— it made them.

Just like her.

Lucy Volkov looks like perfection on the outside— flawless skin, elegant as hell, born with the kind of beauty people want to own.

But that’s not what gets me.

That’s not what holds me in place like gravity every time I look at her.

It’s what’s beneath all that.

The fire.

The fight.

The scars she doesn’t show anyone.

The way she laughs even when she’s tired.

The way she still opens her heart, even when the world tries to shut it down.

Like tonight. She could have called her father, and he would’ve gone to her. Would’ve fixed it all for her.

But didn’t call him, she called me. Me.

Yeah, Lucy’s not some fragile thing meant to be protected in a case.

She’s the kind of diamond you find after the ground’s been cracked wide open.

The kind you don’t display.

The kind you keep.

Close.

Protected.

Mine.

Even if I don’t deserve her.

Even if I’ve spent my whole life convincing myself I’d never have something this fucking good.

She’s here now. With me. And I intend to keep her here.

One taste and I’m fucking addicted.

Her body arches into mine as I back her toward the bed. She tugs at my shirt like it’s the only thing standing between us and salvation.

“Off,” she breathes. “Balor, please.”

Goddamn.

When she says my name?

It’s like everything I ever wanted to hear.

I yank the shirt over my head, toss it somewhere— I don’t care where —and her hands are on my chest immediately, nails raking down as if she needs to claim me.

My mouth finds hers again, hungrier this time. Less restraint.

No more pretending. No more holding back.

We fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and heat and breathless curses.

Her legs wrap around my hips, pulling me in closer.

Closer than I deserve.

Her wet pussy presses against my stomach, heated desire spilling onto me, and I shake.

I fucking shake.

I want this woman more than I want my next breath, and still?—

Still I hesitate.

Just for a second.

Because all my life, I’ve been on the outside looking in.

Fucked-up. Forgotten. Left behind.

But this woman.

This moment.

She’s mine.

And if we do this? If I fuck her tonight?

I’m not walking away.

Even if I should.

Even if it breaks the world in half.

“We should wait,” I tell her, my voice rough, strained, like it hurts to say the words.

She’s sprawled beneath me, eyes dark and glassy with heat, lips kiss-swollen, breath coming fast.

My heart pounds beneath my ribcage. Like the damn thing is trying to break through my body.

She’s never looked more beautiful— or more breakable.

“You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows, the oversized shirt riding up to bare her thighs again.

That glittery skin, that body I’ve memorized with my eyes and hands and mouth in the last ten minutes.

“That’s why I don’t want to wait,” she says, voice low but certain. “I don’t want to have regrets, Balor.”

Those sapphire eyes lock with mine.

Real. Open. Brave.

“If you don’t want this, it’s okay. I’ll go. I promise. But,” Lucy whispers and swallows, takes a shaky breath. “If there’s even a chance you want me as much as I want you, then why shouldn’t we, Balor?”

My hands clench against the bed on either side of her, jaw locked so tight it aches.

“You’re right,” she whispers, still going like she has to convince me to want her or something, and I swear my heart cracks wide open when her desperate, pleading eyes stay on mine.

“Anything could’ve happened tonight. He could’ve been waiting for me instead of leaving that rose. And if that had happened?—”

Lucy pauses, her body trembles, and for an instant my fury rises again, high and fast like the tide. Then she continues, “If things had gone bad?—”

“Not gonna happen, Angel. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you,” I tell her, frowning at the mere idea of it.

She pauses.

Leans in.

“But if it did happen, the only thing I’d regret is not being with you.”

The words punch the air from my lungs.

She’s right.

Fuck, she’s right.

I’ve wasted too much time convincing myself I wasn’t good enough. That I didn’t deserve her. That walking away was noble instead of cowardly.

But she’s here.

She wants me.

Not the polished version.

Not the cleaned-up boardroom act.

Me .

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she starts to apologize, squirming to get away from me, and I realize it’s because I’m frozen like a fucking moron.

“No. Stop,” I say, stilling her movements.

Because the truth is I want her like I’ve never wanted anything in my entire fucking life.

I lower myself back down, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.

It’s truth time.

“Lucy, you should know, I want you, too. I’ve always wanted you,” I confess, and the smile she gives me in return is like the fucking sun coming out.

So, I go for broke.

“Ever since I saw you. I’ve been trying to stay away, cause I knew, if I touched you, you’d be mine . Understand?”

She’s so close. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly against mine.

The thin cotton shirt is too much between us. I want to rip it off her. But I wait for her to respond.

“I understand, Balor. I want that. I want you.”

Fuck. She’s so perfect.

And now there’s no going back.

“No regrets,” I whisper.

Then I kiss her again— this time, there’s no stopping.

Because she said it too.

Lucy is mine.

And I’ll spend the rest of the night proving it.