Page 99 of Wicked Villain

“You were busy with your friend. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

His jaw tightens. “I have many friends.”

“This one had red hair and wanted to show you what you were missing,” I throw back.

There’s a shift in his gaze. Yeah. He knows which friend I mean.

“Did she? Did she show you what you were missing?” Ugh, I shouldn’t have said that. The last thing I want is for him to tease me about being jealous. It would hurt more.

“Gabrielle.”

For once, I’m glad to be called by that name. It’s like he’s not talking to me.

“You can’t just leave without me knowing,” he continues. “You have to travel with the right guards, and you didn’t. Anything could have happened.”

Screw him. How dare he act like he’s worried about my safety? But wait. That’s not what he’s worried about. It’s the fact that my father could take me back. Steal me back. The realization infuriates me more.

“What did you expect me to do? Wait until you finish screwing whoever she was?” I can’t remember her name, and I don’t want to.

He walks up to me. His scent is different. There’s a floral hint to the sandalwood, like peach blossom and honeysuckle. It’s hers. Her scent. She’s all over him.

I get up and throw my sketch pad down. I start heading to the door but he catches my arm.

“Printsessa.” He pulls me flush against his chest. Now it feels like he’s talking to me. It’s strange. In all these weeks I’ve been around him, I’ve only just realized that he’s hardly called me Gabrielle. The silly endearments feel more like me. But I don’t want them to.

“Let me go.” I pull away.

“No.” He tugs me back and the smell is stronger.

“Just get away from me.”

He hooks an arm around my waist, folds me into his body, and crushes his mouth to mine. His lips claim me with such fierce certainty that my body locks against his, caught somewhere between resistance and surrender. The kiss deepens, and every thought swirling in my head starts to slip away. But then I remember, and I pull away.

He allows me to. But only for a second. His fingers slide into my hair, cradling the back of my head.

“Lev—”

“I haven’t touched another woman since you became my wife.” His fingers tighten slightly in my hair, and his eyes hold mine with an unwavering intensity that leaves me breathless. “You’re mine.”

“But…” My pulse stutters. “You’re not mine.”

“Aren’t I?”

Before I can absorb the meaning behind his words, his mouth closes over mine again. This time there’s no room for thought or resistance. He kisses me until his words blur and there’s nothing left in my mind but him.

He moves with me to the bed and lifts me onto it.

I flop on to the silky sheets, then he’s on top of me, kissing me again. His hands glide up my body, bunching my top then sliding up to my breasts to squeeze them.

He kisses his way from my lips to my ear, there he lingers nibbling on the lobe.

“I need to fuck you. Let me,” he husks.

There’s not a doubt in my mind about what I want. Nothing has been clearer than it is now, so I nod. “Yes.”

He meets my gaze, his eyes darkening with hunger.

Gripping the hem of my top he pulls it over my head, exposing my breasts. The hunger in his eyes intensifies the moment he sees how hard my nipples are.