Page 46 of Reign

He stops and looks at me.

For one beat, surprise flashes across his face. Then his mouth curves—slow, knowing, far too pleased.

“Elena.”

My name isn’t a warning this time. It sounds like satisfaction. Like I’ve just confirmed something he wanted to believe about me.

My heart hammers so hard I feel it in my teeth. I lift my chin anyway, determined to be brave. “You really thought you could just walk away from me?”

“I wondered how long you’d let me.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Apparently, not very.”

His voice pulls low in my stomach and makes my thighs press together beneath the silk.

For one breath, I see every reason not to do this.

Santo. Angelo. Adriana. Riot. The wedding. The name Castillo. The fact that this man looked at me once and somehow made every warning in my body sound like invitation.

Then I hear Santo’s voice again.

Stay where you belong.

No.

I step into him, rise onto my toes, and kiss him hard.

A low laugh breaks against my lips. Then his hand closes around my jaw, and he kisses me back like he’s wanted this just as much.

He lets me drive him backward through the door, one step and then another, indulging me until the lock clicks beneath his fingers.

Then he turns us.

My back meets cool marble, and his mouth takes mine again—deeper, hungrier, with none of the restraint he wore in the ballroom.

His thumb settles over the frantic beat beneath my ear.

“All that nerve,” he murmurs against my mouth, openly entertained, “and this keeps telling on you.”

“Maybe I’m excited.”

His eyes darken. “Maybe?”

“I followed you, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

His scent crashes over me—cologne, clean skin and quiet power. It sinks into my lungs and makes me dizzy. I reach for his belt with shaking fingers.

He pulls back just enough to look at me. Hazel eyes dark, pupils blown, but his voice stays that low, controlled thread.

“Careful.”

“I don’t want careful,” I whisper, tugging at the leather.

His lips smile against mine. “No. You’ve made that remarkably clear.”

His large hand covers mine, guiding the buckle open faster. His mouth drops to my neck, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin just below my ear. I gasp, tipping my head back against the marble. The contrast—cool wall, hot mouth, the hard line of his body pinning me—makes my head spin.

I’m really doing this.