Page 35 of His Little Angel

And even though I shouldn’t—I close the door.

Chapter Fifteen

Mila

“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

He takes a slow sip of the whiskey, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know I have my ways, Mila.” He sets the glass down on the side table.

“You broke into my home. Get out.”

He stands, and the space suddenly feels too small. He walks toward me, and I instinctively take a step back, my back hitting the door I just closed.

“Get out?” he growls. “You think I’m going to just watch the woman I’m in love with walk out on me and go straight into the arms of another man?”

The woman I’m in love with. The words hang in the air between us, a cruel, beautiful joke.

“Too little, too late, Enzo.”

Ignoring my words, his gaze drops to my mouth, then my neck. “Was he a good date? Did he make you laugh?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Answer me.” He yells roughly, but his thumb brushes my jawline like a feather. “Did he touch you?”

I want to lie. I want to hurt him the way he’s hurt me. “Yes.”

I see genuine pain flash across his face before it’s replaced by chilling fury. “Where?” he growls.

“Enzo, stop.”

“Did he hold your hand? Did he kiss you? Don’t you dare lie to me.”

“Why do you care?” I shoot back. This is what I wanted. This is the monster I’d always sensed lurking beneath his perfect suit—and it comes out just to play with me. “You had your chance. You threw it away.”

“I was a fool,” he bites out. “I was a coward. But I’m here now. So I’ll ask you one more time. Did he kiss you?”

“I kissed him. And it was nice.”

A low, guttural sound escapes his throat, and his mouth crashes down on mine. It’s brutal and possessive, his teeth digging into my lower lip. I push against his chest, but inside, I’m soaring.

Yes. Yes. Lose your mind. Finally.

“I can taste him,” he snarls when he pulls back. “Did you fuck him?”

“No,” I say. It’s the truth, but it sounds like a lie even to my own ears.

“I’m not quite sure I believe you.” His hands make quick work of my jeans and top while I hit his arms the whole time.

“Pretty lingerie,” he sneers. “Was this for him? Did you let him see you in this?”

I try to cover myself with my arms. He bats my hands away like they’re annoying insects. He grabs me, spins me around, and bends me over his arm. The first smack of his hand against my ass is so shocking I cry out.

“You’re insane!” I scream—but inside it feels like baptism, like I was born for him to play with, to have his way with, and I’m finally experiencing it.

He rips at the delicate lace of my panties, then forces me back against the door. “Let me smell,” he growls, pressing his face against my pussy, sniffing like a rabid dog.

Heat climbs to my face. I’ve been dancing and playing around all night, so I’m not exactly the freshest—but the slight moan that escapes him tells me he doesn’t mind.