Page 15 of Her Vicious Angel

“Take your shirt off,” he said abruptly.

“In America we say ‘hello,’” I said.

His lips twisted. “In my territory, I take what I want. And I want you.”

I had forgotten about his goddamn fucking reach.

His arm shot out, grabbing the back of my shirt and dragging me toward him.

I hit my head on the fence and was pinned against it.

“Ouch!” I complained, looking down to where his grip on my shirt had tightened it against the curves of my breasts and stomach.

“Then do what I say the first time, brat,” he said, and he took my shirt in his hand and twisted.

I heard a softthwicksound, and then he had cut my shirt from bottom to top, the knife a soft scrape against my shivering skin.

I tried to get away then, but his hand held me fast by the hip.

I looked down and saw that his knuckles were torn and bloody.

What had he been doing?

The confirmation of what he did and who he was should have terrified me. But instead I felt a rush of heat. The place where he held me seemed to radiate a burning fire. He ground against where there had already been a bruise, and it sent a throbbing wave of pleasure throughout my body.

Suddenly Andrei flipped me around to face him, his sharp eyes taking in my whole body.

He put a hand out and moved my hair away from my neck, then his eyes roamed all over my chin, my neck, my arms, my hips, everywhere he had marked me.

His eyes were gleaming. “I like the way my handprints look on you,” he said. “They’d probably look even better on your ass.”

“Oh, you’re disgusting!” I said angrily.

I saw that devil’s smile cross his face again, and he laughed arrogantly.

“I cansmellyour arousal, Cerise.”

“Bullshit,” I whispered, but not convincingly.

“You’ll be begging to ride my cock tonight.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I begyoufor anything!” I spat angrily, whirling around.

He caught my hand again.

“Careful, Cerise,” he warned. “Don’t make me angry.”

9

CERISE

That evening, I was sipping a glass of wine. I was the only person dressed casually, in my jeans and T-shirt.

Most of Andrei’s men were sitting around on the sofas, drinking and fondling women. There seemed to be dozens of people here now. Most of the men were big bruisers, and Andrei was the biggest and most dangerous-looking one of all. I wasn’t sure which ones were his cousins and which ones were the hired muscle, and frankly I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, they were all obstacles to escaping.

There were also dozens of women, inevitably tall, thin, and beautiful, and they were all thrilled to be with the men of the Petrovic family.

I could see Andrei sitting on the couch with women dancing in front of him, all obviously competing for his attention. One woman ran her hands over her breasts, moaning as she touched herself, while another twisted her hips in a slow, sensual dance.

---