Chapter 161 - ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY ONE

Chapter 161: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY ONE

ANGEL

Amusement flickered across his dark features—a twisted provocation, a silent dare that made my skin prickle with hot, dirty anticipation.

"You think you can make me, little girl?"

"I think you want to let me."

I climbed onto his lap, straddling his broad thighs, feeling the solid press of his heat against me. Hard. Straining against his dark jeans, thick and heavy.

"I think the big monster wants to be good for once," I whispered, trailing my nails up his throat to his jaw. "Doesn’t it want to let someone else drive for a change? Let your little whore dictate the pace?"

His hands slammed onto my hips, thick fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise, holding me pinned against his erection.

"Ah-ah." I caught his wrists, yanking them up with all my strength and pinning them against the headboard above his head.

He could break my grip in a split second—we both knew it. He was stronger, lethal, and dangerous in every conceivable way. But he stayed still, his chest heaving, his dark grey eyes burning into mine with an unhinged hunger.

"Hands stay right here," I commanded, leaning down until my mouth brushed his. "You don’t touch a single inch of my body unless I say you can. Understood, Daddy?"

"Angel..." His voice was a raspy, dangerous growl—a warning and a filthy plea tangled together.

"What’s the matter, Daddy?" I ground my hips down against his, smirking as he swallowed a deep groan. "Not used to being on your back? Not used to your broken little pet holding the power?"

"You’re playing a dangerous fucking game," he gritted out, his knuckles flexing beneath my hands. "And dangerous games have savage consequences."

"Maybe I like the danger." I rolled my hips slowly, enjoying the sharp, twitch of his shaft beneath me. "Maybe that’s why I let a psychopath with blood on his hands keep me locked in his fortress, using my mouth whenever he wants."

A choked groan tore from his throat, the dirty sound sending a hot shiver straight between my thighs, making my core ache.

"I set the pace tonight," I murmured, leaning back to look at him. "I touch you. I decide when you get to touch me. And I make you beg for it like a bitch."

"I don’t beg." The words were arrogant, but his hips lifted off the mattress anyway, desperate for friction, seeking the wet heat he knew was waiting for him.

"Mmm. We’ll see about that." I pulled my top over my head and tossed it onto the floor, baring myself completely to his gaze. His eyes darkened instantly, his pupils blown so wide they swallowed the grey.

"Angel—" He flexed his wrists against my grip, his veins bulging.

"You get to look," I purred, cupping my breasts, squeezing them. "But you don’t touch. Not until you’ve earned it."

"You’re fucking torturing me, you dirty little cunt."

"Just a little." I pinched my nipples hard, gasping as a spike of pleasure hit me, watching his expression warp into pure anguish. "Look at you. The big bad wolf, completely at my mercy. Men tremble when you walk into a room, and here you are—rock hard and obeying my every command."

"You don’t have a merciful bone in your body."

"I learned from the absolute best." I dragged myself along his length again, forcing a ragged gasp from his lips as his hips bucked up involuntarily. "Tell me you want me."

"You know I fucking do."

"Say the words." I stilled my hips completely, denying him the friction he was craving. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you," he growled, his jaw locked tight. "I want you so bad I can’t fucking breathe. I want to be buried inside you. I want to feel you clench around my cock while you scream for me. Do it, Angel. Please."

There it was. The demand... and the plea.

I smiled, thoroughly drunk on the toxic power.

"Good boy," I whispered, releasing his wrists.

His hands slammed onto my body immediately—grabbing my waist, my hips, my ass, digging his nails in as he pulled me down violently. I guided his thick, pre-cum-coated head to my entrance and sank down in one smooth, breathless plunge, taking him all the way to the hilt until my pelvis slammed against his.

We both gasped, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Fuck," he swore, his fingers digging deep into my hips, leaving red crescents. "Fuck, Angel... you feel like home. Tight, wet, and fucking mine."

I began to move, slow, deep, and ruthless, setting a punishing pace. I rose and fell over him, taking my time, watching his storm-grey eyes burn with ruin and dark devotion.

"Let me have you," I breathed, leaning down over him, letting my hair veil his face. "Completely. Without you trying to control every breath I take."

He looked up at me like he’d let me burn his entire world to the ground if I asked him to, as long as he got to stay inside me while it burned.

"Then take whatever the fuck you want, Angel." His hands rested on my hips, guiding me softly instead of forcing me. "Show me what my good girl needs."

And I showed him, riding him until neither of us had any sanity left.

***

Damien kept his word. He took me out of the fortress.

We boarded his private jet—sleek leather seats, tinted glass, and a glass of warm milk he forced into my hand because he insisted it was good for the baby, even though the smell made me want to gag.

I pressed my face against the oval window, watching the city shrink beneath the clouds. It had been so long since I’d seen the open sky that the sheer vastness of it made my throat tight. Freedom—even if it was monitored, even if it was under his watch.

The destination was a remote compound perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Waves crashed against the jagged rocks below, loud and wild.

When he opened the front doors, I froze.

In the center of the vaulted room stood a mannequin beneath a spotlight. Displayed on it was a white gown, adorned with delicate, glittering beadwork that caught the sunlight like spun ice.

A wedding dress.

I turned to him, my pulse spiking in my chest.

"We’re getting married, little girl."

Before I could process the words, Damien dropped to one knee.

I stared at him in utter disbelief as he pulled a velvet box from his jacket, revealing a flawless, blinding diamond ring.

"Angel. Will you marry me?"