Page 21 of Lost Prince

“From your home or just you?”

His face contorts into frustration. “Both… fuck… neither.” He turns away and starts pacing again. “I'm trying to protect you."

"From you? I'm not afraid of you, Lazaro."

His gaze snaps to mine, fierce and intense. "You should be. You don't know what I'm capable of."

I meet his stare unflinchingly. “Everyone is capable of bad things.”

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. “Do you know my family? Me?”

“Yes.”

“No, you don’t know me. I don’t even know me, except that I’m capable of more than just bad things. Things I’m not in control of. Mad dog. That’s what they call me.”

"That's the kind of man you were. You're different now. I see it."

He lets out another frustrated growl. "You don't know that. I could snap at any moment. I could hurt you."

"But you won't.” It’s odd how sure I am of that even though I have no reason to feel so sure. I reach out to take his hand. He flinches but doesn't pull away.

"You won't hurt me," I insist, stepping closer. "I trust you, Lazaro."

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't. I don't even trust myself."

I reach up, cupping his cheek in my palm. He leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When they open again, the intensity in his gaze steals my breath. The air between us feels electric, charged with longing.

"Tell me to stay away," he whispers. "Tell me to leave, and I will. I'll walk out that door and never bother you again."

The world narrows down to just the two of us. Everything else fades away. All that matters is this moment, this choice.

"And if I don't want you to stay away?"

Lazaro's eyes darken, his grip on my hand tightening. "Then I intend to have you here and now because I want you so badly I'm going out of my mind."

8

LAZARO

My breath stalls as I wait, wondering if my confession will scare her away. I’m equally hopeful that it will and it won’t. I don’t trust myself not to hurt her and yet, I need her as much as I need my next breath.

“I want you too.”

Disbelief floods my mind. How can this beautiful, full of life woman want someone like me? Someone dangerous and broken?

And yet, there's no mistaking the desire in her eyes. My body moves of its own accord, closing the distance between us. One hand finds her waist while the other cups her cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft beneath my callused palm.

Time seems to slow as I lean in, giving her a chance to push me away. But she doesn't. Instead, her eyes flutter closed, and she tilts her chin up in silent invitation. Still unsure, I lean in, my lips touching hers. Her lips part, and it hits me that she’s kissing me. Really kissing me. Her mouth is warm and pliant against mine. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as if she can't get enough.

A groan escapes me as desire courses through my veins, hot and demanding. I press her more firmly against the wall, deepening the kiss. She tastes sweet, like those delicious cookies she makes.

For the first time since waking up with no memory, I feel alive. The constant tension in my body melts away, replaced by a different kind of urgency. One that has me trailing kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat.

Diana whimpers, arching into me. The sound sets my blood on fire. I want to hear it again and again.

I pin her against the wall, my body pressing flush against hers. Her tits mold against my chest. My cock nestles against her belly, igniting a fire in my veins. My hands roam her curves, eager to touch every delectable inch of her.

A low growl rumbles in my chest as Diana grinds against me, making my dick scream with need. A tether breaks. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I’ll fucking die if I can’t have this woman.