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Theo’s dark chuckle fills the room. “Such a good little liar.” His hand curves around the side of my neck, his thumb stroking my thundering pulse point. But I’m not scared, his touch is almost reverent.
“What are you doing?” I breathe, my stomach knotted with desire.
“Making good on my promise to make it up to you.”
“Theo, I—”
His mouth crashes down on mine, stealing my protests and all rational thoughts, as he pulls me into his body.
The kiss is hard and bruising as he lays claim to my sanity. But there’s something different about it, something even more terrifying.
It’s tender.
Theo isn’t trying to dominate me, he’s trying to apologise, and it completely throws me for a loop.
His hands slide down my waist and under my skirt and then he’s hoisting me up and carrying me over to his bed.
“This is a bad idea,” I murmur between kisses, my arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“Bad ideas are always the best kind.”
“Your friends—”
“Aren’t here. And honestly, I wouldn’t give a fuck if they were. You’re mine, sunshine.” He lays me down and hovers over me. “Mine.”
My head ratchets in my chest at his declaration, and my internal defences scream at me to make a run for it.
It’s the only option that makes sense.
Theo and I have no future. We have no hopes at a normal relationship.
There’s only one way this ends, in heartache and pain. I know that. He must too.
But it doesn’t stop me from letting him strip me naked and trail kisses all over my skin. And it doesn’t stop him from threading his fingers through mine, the most intimate gesture he’s ever given me.
“Been dreaming about you in my bed,” he admits, wrapping his tongue around my nipple and pulling it into his mouth.
I let out a breathy hiss, far too comfortable with the little bite of pain.
“My dirty girl likes it to hurt, doesn’t she?”
His words echo through my mind.
My dirty girl.
My girl.
His girl.
It can never happen. So why does it light me up inside?
Vaughn really must have done a number on me, that I’m falling so easily for Theo’s charm when I should be running for the hills.
But I know it’s more than that. You can’t help who you fall for. On paper we couldn’t be more different. Broken foster kid with barely a penny to her name and the rich entitled kid from Saints Cross with his future mapped out before him.
It’s as tragic as it is laughable.
So why does it feel so good?
