Page 40 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

She touches my face.

“I couldn’t save you,” I mutter, and a piece of weight lifts off my chest. See where honesty gets you? “God, I didn’t even know you had been taken—”

She pulls me toward her, her hands gentle on the back of my neck. I go with the pressure until our lips are inches apart.

And then I stop.

“Margo—”

She kisses me.

It shocks me, in a way. She’s not usually the pursuer in our fucked-up relationship. I’ve hunted her down, bullied her, broke her. But in the end, she turned out stronger than I could’ve imagined.

Her lips move against my frozen ones. It isn’t until her teeth tug on my lower lip that my body thaws.

I slide my hands up her sides, over her shoulder blades and into her hair. She gives me the control, letting me tilt her head back, my tongue slip into her mouth. Her tongue slides along mine, forcing me out. She explores my mouth.

She tastes sweet.

I lay her down gently, cupping the back of her head even after it rests on the pillow. My body follows, hovering just over her.

We’re a mess, her and I.

Her leg hooks over my hip, drawing me closer.

I groan into her mouth, shifting so she can feel exactly what she does to me.

She tears her mouth away from mine, panting. “Caleb.”

I move to her neck, licking and kissing a spot just below her ear that drives her crazy. She wriggles beneath me, her head lolling to the side to give me better access. Her hands go to the button of my pants, shoving them down.

She gets my boxers off next.

I bite her neck, and her whole body lurches. I grin.

“Caleb, I need to feel you,” she whispers.

I roll my hips, the head of my cock brushing her panties. It just makes me harder, because she’s soaked.

Her fingers find my erection, and she moves her panties to the side.

I thrust into her, and we both let out a low groan.

Being inside her without a condom is dangerous. This is one time I can’t lose my mind. And I really want to just not fucking think for a little while.

She leans to the side, toward my nightstand. The mind reader.

“As good as this feels, I don’t want to be a teen mom,” she says.

I snort. “Ditto.”

She finds a condom, and I pull out of her, rolling it on. I tear her panties off, while my mind is at least a fraction clearer.

“If this hurts your head, tell me,” I warn her.

“You have a head wound, too,” she says. “So, ditto back.”

I chuckle. “It won’t.”