The door snicks closed as I pull it tight.
Heavy hands grab me.
Panic lances through me. I buck, forgetting the lessons drilled into me since I was ten years old and coming to the US for the first time.
I’m dragged around the corner into the alcove leading to the stairs that head to Angel’s loft. Few people even know it’s here. This area is forbidden to all.
Just as the realization of the only person besides Lourdes, Ellie and me who knows about it registers, my back is slammed against the wall.
“The fuck, Saban.” Snake snarls down at me. His body presses heavily against mine for a hard, delicious second before he jerks back like he’s burned, or rather, like I’m a leper.
“The fuck, Hadrián.” I snarl back, knowing the reaction I’m going to get.
His hand manacles my neck, pressing me back against the wall. “Don’t fucking call me that,” he grits. I watch the muscle tick in his jaw.
“Why? It’s your name — Hadrián.” I say with saccharine sweetness.
“You’re asking for an ass-whooping.” He means it. Common sense would tell me to stop while I’m ahead, but I’m too far gone.
I just witnessed the most beautiful lovemaking between two people who barely even know each other, and I can’t even get my guardian to smile at me.
“Promise?” I cock a smirk at him.
The air between us turns electric. The moment incendiary.
The space between us vanishes. It’s like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, and I need his very air if I want to keep breathing.
My skin burns where he touches me. My breasts rise and fall, brushing between us, grazing the fabric of his Henley with every exhalation.
The burnt copper of his gaze clashes with mine, snags, then tangles.
“Don’t.” It’s a plea erupting from him like he’s fighting for his life.
Shaking my head in confusion, I look at him, not understanding. “Don’t what, Snake?” I make a point of saying his road name, not wanting to upset this connection we seem to finally be making.
His head dips, pressing against mine. His eyes squeeze shut. Fascinated, I stare at the long sweep of his lashes. Pain etches on his face. His lips tremble, then he presses them tightly as the words tear from him like every word he utters is ripping him apart.
“Don’t make me like them. I know what you want from me, and I’m telling you right now, it can never happen. I won’t letit.” His eyes open then to meet mine. Anguish. There is so much anguish in his words. Determination laces every consonant. He is resolute in every vowel he utters.
I would never think to push him before tonight. But after what I saw on that stage between Angel and Ezekiel-Jane, instinctively I know that’s how it would be between Snake and me. I want a little of that for myself — for us. Consequences be damned.
Reaching out to his thickly corded neck, I grasp him, tugging him down.
I press my lips to his closed ones. For a hot second, disappointment threatens to take when he doesn’t respond. Reckless. So fucking recklessly, my tongue darts out, licking the seam of his closed lips.
He jerks at the contact.
Before I can retreat, his mouth slants over mine. His kiss is not the stuff of fairy tales, but of something much darker. It’s crushing, bruising, eviscerating. This is not the kiss of Prince Charming, but the Dark Knight.
He takes my lips. His are firm and lush. Licking into my mouth, he claims me as his. His tongue spears into mine like a marauder claiming the territory that belongs to him alone. I melt against him, pliant and open for him. Our tongues mingle, dancing with a cadence and rhythm all their own. He dominates my mouth. Fucks it. Owning every space his tongue touches. He swallows my gasp, his hand around my neck tightening and tightening until the air is almost closed off.
Tasting the faintness of the tequila, I suck him deep, letting him have me. Pushing my body against his, I feel his heavy dick pressed against my tummy. Aching so that I cradle him, I grind against him, reveling in the feel of his length. A trill of fear races through me at the novel feeling, but it does nothing to extinguish the exhilaration.
Distantly, I hear an eruption of cheers from the front of the club.
Snake stills as if cold water has been thrown on us. It’s his job to make sure order is maintained when Angel is otherwise occupied, like he is now, taking care of his new bride. Instead, he’s tucked away back here kissing me.
I see the moment the realization hits him.
