Page 50 of His Little Angel

It’s time for aftercare.

Not food. Not water. Not yet.

She doesn’t need sustenance.

She needs me.

I roll her onto her stomach, remove the restraints, massage her wrists gently. Then I spread her legs and press my lips to the curve of her ass.

“Forgive me,” I murmur. “I was too rough.”

I clean her with my mouth, slow and thorough, until her moans soften into dazed sounds.

“You are the altar I kneel before,” I whisper. “The fire that consumes me.”

Finally, I pull back and gather her into my arms.

“Give me your phone.”

Too sex-dazed to argue, she hands it over.

I find Luke’s name.

One tap. Blocked.

“No more of this prick,” I say quietly. “Just us.”

She stirs, protests weakly. “Enzo… Luke was just—he didn’t mean—”

I hush her with a finger to her lips.

“Shh, my angel.”

I nuzzle her neck.

“I’m never leaving you. Not for a second. But I’m never letting you leave either. Or seek out another man again.”

I hold her tighter.

“This bed. This house. My arms—they’re your world now.”

A pause.

“Just like you’re my entire universe.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Mila

Ihave Enzo exactly where I want him. But not in the way men usually end up when they’re pussy-whipped—obedient, dimmed. No.

He’s still Enzo. Still dangerous.

He’s just pointed entirely at me.

Somewhere along the way, I started to trust him. Because he keeps showing up, keeps staying, keeps choosing me—even when I make it difficult.

And the love I buried so deep I thought it had fossilized—