Page 42 of His Little Angel

She stares at me like she doesn’t know whether to slap me or pull me closer. I take her coffee mug out of her hand and set it on the table. Then I sit beside her—close enough that our thighs brush.

“Get it, baby?”

“Don’t you have anything else to call me besides baby?” She changes the subject, not ready to face it yet—and I allow her to. “It’s overused.”

“Mm,” I hum. “You’re right.”

My lips graze the shell of her ear.

“These ears handled my tantrums better than I deserved,” I sigh, kissing the soft skin behind it.

I kiss her cheek next.

“These lips…”

My mouth brushes hers, barely a touch.

“…these lips smiled at me even when I was acting like a bastard.”

I drag my mouth down her neck, to the frantic pulse at her throat.

“This pulse,” I whisper against her skin, “was never afraid of me. Even when the devil inside me clawed to the surface.”

I drop to my knees in front of her.

Her eyes widen. “What are you—”

I kiss her chest, right over her racing heart. “This heart was given to me even when I didn’t deserve a single beat of it.”

Her fingers sink into my hair. I go lower. I kiss her stomach next.

“This… will carry our beautiful children someday.”

She whimpers, trying to push my head away.

I keep going. I slide my hands down her legs, grip her ankles, and lift her feet into my palms. I kiss one arch. Then the other.

“You stood on these feet for hours in the office for me,” I whisper. “So I wouldn’t stay late by myself.”

Her knees tremble.

I look up at her while lowering my mouth between her thighs, kissing her through her panties.

“And this… this is my home. My temple. My place of worship.”

She makes a broken sound.

“You’re right,” I whisper against the cotton. “You’re not just a woman I worship. You’re an angel.”

I kiss her clit.

“My angel.”

Chapter Eighteen

Enzo

That’s what she is. An angel. My angel.