When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(18)

She grips each of my wrists and tries to push my hands off the counter. “You really think it’s not possible that I just genuinely dislike you?”

The venom in her voice is convincing, but I haven’t done enough to earn it.

She knows I’m right.

I twist my wrists, effortlessly shaking her off.

Her hands fall back to her sides.

They’re trembling.

“Look at your hands,” I command.

She does. When she sees what I’m seeing, she sucks in a breath and makes two fists.

“That won’t do it.” I’m so close I can pick up on the floral scent of her perfume. I wrap my palms around her delicate wrists and force her fists against my abdomen.

“Let go of me.”

“I’ll be your punching bag. Hit me.”

She presses farther away from me, probably wishing she could move through the counter. Her full lips part. Waver. “I-I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not? I’ve been that for you ever since we met.”

I let my gaze drop down her body. She’s breathing hard, making the swell of her breasts rise and fall. The outline of her nipples are visible through that silky dress, and my cock swells against the zipper of my slacks.

She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.

I take a small step back to give her some space, but I keep her fists pressed to my abdomen. “C’mon, Gem. You said you don’t like me. Or did you lie?”

Apparently, she really doesn’t want me thinking that, because she jerks her right wrist out of my hold and punches me.

A thrill runs up my spine. I don’t like that fake, perfect version of her. I like this one. The one that keeps me on my toes.

I chuckle. “That’s all you’ve got?”

She glares at me, teeth clenched, jaw tight.

“Your technique could use some— Oof.”

She cuts me off with another punch, this time noticeably harder.

“Still not quite—”

She goes for two more, and I tense my abs to absorb the hits. When she feels the difference, her eyes go momentarily wide. She makes a frustrated sound and then really hits me.

“There.” I grab her hand and hold it in place. Then I lift it between us.

It’s steady.

“You see? Sometimes, you should just let it out. It feels good to do what you want. You should try it more often.”

“Fuck you,” she hisses.

Anger. So much anger for me.

But I bet for Messero, she’ll turn docile and sweet.

A knot of disgust twists inside my gut, and that’s when I do something I shouldn’t.

I follow my own advice about just doing what I want.

The space between us disappears. My thighs press to hers, and I force her back against the counter.

Her eyes widen. “Ras—”

I grab her jaw with my palm and tilt her face up. “Since you seem so fucking good at bending to your parents’ will, let’s see how well you bend to mine.”

She gasps, her pink mouth falling open.

I lean in and kiss her.

She’s always been so sharp around me, so for a moment, I’m taken aback by the softness of her lips. They mold perfectly to mine. I curl my other hand around her nape and pull her closer, holding her in place so that she won’t break the kiss until I get my fill.

My tongue lashes out, forcing past her lips and into the heat of her mouth. She makes a sound. A strangled moan. Perhaps, a muffled protest.

Fuck, I really shouldn’t be doing this. But after all the buildup, all the tension, this is a heady release. I lick inside her mouth, gorging on her taste. It’s laced with remnants of that sweet wine, but now the flavor is perfect. Exquisite.

We fit together. Her smaller body is snug against mine, her breasts pressing against my chest, their nipples hard enough to— “Fuck!”

I stagger backwards, black spots bursting across my vision and pain shooting up my groin.

She kneed me in the balls.

I grin through the pain. Yeah, I fucking earned that.

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

Her question wipes the smile off my face.

Actually, it’s her tone.

Panicked. Afraid.

I glance up at her from my bent-over position. She’s all the way on the other side of the kitchen now.

Even in the dim light, I can see her eyes glistening, her chin trembling.

Cazzo.

Despite the pulsating pain, I force myself to straighten up. There’s an unpleasant falling sensation in my gut, a delayed realization that maybe I took it too far.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Gemma wipes her lips slowly, making a show of her disgust.

My stomach bottoms out. She’s upset.

Her nostrils flare. “Do you know what would happen to me if my father saw what you just did?” She gives her head an indignant shake. “I should have known. I should have left this kitchen as soon as you appeared.”

It’s a game between us, isn’t it? I kissed her. She kneed me. We’re even. Only she doesn’t seem to think so. “Gemm—”

She slams her fist against the counter, her eyes blazing with fury. “This is the hardest time of my life. I’m barely managing as is. And you’ve come along and decided to make me into your entertainment. Don’t you think I have enough problems to deal with as is? Or do you think this is fun for me? Hearing people talk about how crazy the family that I’m marrying into is? It’s a joke for them, but there’s nothing funny about it. It’s my fucking life. My life they’re laughing at. Me.”