My Sadistic Billionaire - Wicked First Love

“Am I right so far?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“So this other girl might be the one for the boy?”

“Uh huh.”

“Even if the boy made her cry?”

Oh.

“Because,” Angelo said tautly, “if the boy could turn back time, he would have—-”

She cut him off, whispering, “Yes. Even if the boy made the other girl cry, she still thinks he’s the one for her.”

They stared at each other, Lane’s eyes not hiding anything even when everything Angelo felt remained buried.

He asked slowly, “The boy wants to ask something.”

“W-what is it?”

“Can the boy kiss her now?”

Oh. Her lips curved in a tremulous smile. “The girl says...”

He sucked in his breath.

“Her masochistic side likes it better when he doesn’t even bother to ask.” There was a rustle of movement and the next thing Lane knew, Angelo was looming over her, and she was trapped under his powerfully muscular body. In the blink of an eye, the bedroom that once felt too beautiful and too vast for her became nothing but a mist of faded colors, and the only vivid thing she could see was him.

Her fallen angel, who was a fairytale prince even as he insisted on seeing himself as a villain.

The devilish smile on his lips was more than her heart could bear, and when he crooned, “Does this meet the girl’s approval?” she just about expired on the spot.

“Yes,” was all Lane managed to whisper. The hot, throbbing feel of him scrambled all her senses, and she couldn’t keep her body from going stiff under him. She was terrified that if she made the tiniest movement and had more contact with his body, she would just...explode.

“Relax, tesoro.” One hand swept over the side of her body, a touch that she supposed was meant to comfort but only made it harder for her to breathe. The move of his hand was languid and almost deliberately caressing, and she had to bite back a gasp as his fingers lingered on the side of breast.

Oh, his fingers were so close—-

His fingers moved down to her waist, stopping on her hip, his grip possessive.

“Feeling better now?”

She squeaked out, “No.”

His lips curved. “Good.”

Gooooosh. She said helplessly, “Sadist.” But they both knew she was saying it for her sake, because she loved that he was one.

His head came down an inch closer, and her breath caught.

Another inch, and the urge to writhe was an exquisite torment to resist.

Another inch, and oh, so close now that she could feel his breath fanning her lips—-

“Please,” she choked out.

His eyes gleamed, and she knew he had been waiting for her to beg.

“Sadi—-mmph.”

He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and she froze. She knew this didn’t even count as kissing, but the intimacy of the act was already overwhelming, and her fists clenched against her sides.

“My Lane.” The velvety possessiveness of Angelo’s tone made her whimper, and as her lips parted, his tongue immediately slipped inside.

Oh!

Her eyes drifted close, and her fists clenched harder.

His tongue moved softly inside her mouth, tasting, exploring, and her heartbeat went erratic. She felt Angelo shifting, and then he was clasping her head with both hands, angling her face, and the kiss suddenly deepened, his tongue pushing further inside.

She moaned against his mouth, her fingers unclenching, and she found herself clutching his shoulders. He kissed her harder, and her grip on his shoulders tightened.

And then it was over.

Angelo had suddenly torn his mouth off her, and he was staring down at Lane, breathing hard, his eyes glittering with need.

Confused and left aching, Lane could only stare up at him, her heartbeat filling her eardrums.

“It’s too soon.” He rolled to his back and stared up at the ceiling. Because he had suddenly thought of Ray. And now he couldn’t get the faceless stranger’s name out of his mind.

Lane kept herself still, feeling like an unwanted corpse next to Angelo’s hot, masculine perfection. What had she done wrong?

“I’m sorry.” He forced the words out, unable to ignore the waves of misery coming off the girl beside him.

“Because you don’t want me?”

“Impossible.” Angelo’s lips twisted at the mere thought.

“Impossible,” she echoed numbly. He was lying to her. If it was impossible for him not to want her—-

Lane jerked when Angelo suddenly grasped her hand.

The next thing she knew, he had it placed on...his...cock.

Her eyes flew open.

It was scorching hot, rigid and hard, and engorged to the point that her fingers couldn’t even completely encircle it. And she had tried, an unnamed, wanton instinct making her do so.

“Like I said.” Angelo’s tone was cool. “Impossible.”

Right.

She coughed. She swallowed. But she just couldn’t make herself speak, she was too busy feeling how, err, impossibly hard he was. Unable to help it, she felt her fingers tightening to squeeze his cock—-

Angelo stiffened, and his hand was suddenly imprisoning hers. “What,” he grated out, “do you think you were doing?”