Page 67 of My Sunfall

“Dance with me? For old times’ sake.”

I hesitate for a second. But it’s just a dance, if this could appease him, then fine. I exhale slowly and nod. He leads me to the dance floor and pulls me close with a charming smile that makes my skin prickle with uneasiness.

“You look stunning tonight—”

“Nathan, stop,” I cut him off softly, trying to keep the moment light. “You’re going to give me a big head.”

He laughs and twirls me around so suddenly that I give a startled laugh. And that’s when a tingle makes the hairs on my neck stand on end.

Lucas is back. I scan the crowd and spot him standing on the other side of the room, eyes locked on us. The look on his face is murderous.

He doesn’t move at first, he just watches us, and I can feel the weight of his gaze latched on Nathan’s hand resting on the small of my back. Then he stalks toward us, jaw tight and violence written all over his face. People part instinctively, sensing the danger. He reaches us, grabs my arm to rip me out of Nathan’s hold and pulls me flush against his chest.

“Dance is over,” he growls, low and menacing.

My heart starts to hammer in my chest and the room blurs as he spins me away and drags me off the dance floor. He doesn’t stop until he has shoved me out into a secluded balcony. He follows and slams the door shut.

“Lucas,” I start, but he has me pushed against the wall in a blink and the air whooshes out of my lungs.

“Are you out of your mind?” His voice is a whipcrack as he is looming over me, caging me in, crowding me against the wall. “I leave for five fucking minutes, and I come back to find his hands all over you?”

“He asked for a dance,” I protest, breath shallow. “I didn’t want to cause a scene—”

“You think I give a damn about a scene?” His face is inches from mine now, eyes burning with cold fury in the darkness. “You’re mine. No one touches what’s mine, ever.”

His words ripple through me, the mix of heat and anger coiling into something heady. My back is pressed against the cold stone while the force of his fury washes over me in waves so tangible that my breath catches and my chest heaves. His whole presence is swallowing me, choking me like a toxic cloud.

“I should drag you out of here right now,” he grits out between his clenched teeth, restraint turning his voice into a growl—sounding barely human. “But maybe letting everyone see you flushed and trembling by my side will be punishment enough.”

“What do you m—”

Before I can grasp what he said, his mouth slams over mine, hard and punishing.

Chapter Forty-Five

Chiara

Lucas’ fingers tangle into my hair, and the French twist that has been holding it up comes undone. He fists the strands in a death grip, yanking my head back as his mouth ruthlessly plunders mine. When he trails hungry, wet kisses along my jaw, I gasp from the savagery of his onslaught.

“You’re mine,” he growls in a low voice between sucking and nipping the soft skin of my throat as his fingers painfully tug at my hair. “No one touches what’s mine, not even for a fucking waltz.”

There are faint voices as someone passes on the other side of the door and I stiffen. “Lucas, someone might see us…”

“Good.” His mouth crashes back against mine, punishing, devouring, while he grabs my hip hard enough to bruise. “Let them see,” he grits out hotly against my lips. “Let every bastard in that room know who you belong to.”

My heart starts to hammer in my chest, and my body responds to his assertiveness almost instantly. Heat pools low in my belly and threatens to drag me under. I shove at his chest in a desperate attempt to smother my surrender, but he only presses closer, wedging a thigh between mine. The friction steals my last shred of sanity, and I moan shamelessly as I feel the wetness seep through my panties onto his pants.

He slides his hand down to the slit of my dress, trailing fire over my bare thigh. I shudder when he brushes his fingers over the edge of my lingerie, circling his thumb closer and closer to the very spot I dread and need him to touch.

“Lucas,” I hear myself beg, I am not even sure myself what I am begging for. I grip his shirt harder, not knowing anymore if I want to shove him away or pull him closer.

“Yes, love,” he murmurs roughly against my ear as he starts to bunch my dress up. “Say it. Say who you belong to.”

Before I can reply, voices can be heard again and my breathing stutters, my body is tingling, and my heart is leaping in my throat from the recklessness of being discovered. I can’t seem to think straight. All I can feel is Lucas and his hard body pressing me against the wall, the smell of his cologne enveloping me while his hands and mouth drive me wild with lust. He unzips his pants and shoves the strip of lace covering my pussy aside. Then he grabs my ass to hoist me up against the wall. I instinctively wrap my legs around him to steady myself and clutch his shoulders with shaking hands.

He stills and leans his forehead against mine, breathing hard, eyes blazing with madness.

“Say it, goddammit,” he snarls, pushing the head of his cock inside me. “Who do you belong to? Who owns you? Say it!”