Page 80 of Destined for the Devil
"Roman..."
"No. No Roman. What are you going to call me tonight, Angel?" Shamelessly, I pushed further. "Tell me. Tell me what you're going to call me." My lips grazed the shell of her ear, my body and mind on fire. Illuminated by the computer screen, I watched large goosebumps skitter across her skin as she struggled to breathe.
"Daddy..." She finally said it, so quietly it was almost nonexistent. Fuck. I'd never wanted to hear that word more.
"That's right, baby." I somehow managed to respond, my eyes roaming her angelic face, so close,so closeto her sweet lips. She shot her eyes open, burning with lust.
Gently, and so apprehensive, I touched my lips to hers and heard her teeny tiny little moan. I breathed her in, and her hands landed on my chest—right where they belonged.
Isla answered my kiss back. There was never a happier moment before in my life. Never had I experienced such feelings of joy.
Isla would come back to me. I was sure of it.
As if afraid this moment would somehow dissipate, I kissed her so slowly, my mind ascending into heaven. Both of our breaths mixing together, her tongue made it inside my mouth, and I leaned in, pressing her against me. Mine. Mine—she would always bemine! I was so happy, I was ready to cry.
I stepped forward, and she stumbled back, her shoulders drawing upward and my hands already on her back. I helped her hop onto the desk, my lips traveling down her jaw. And then her neck…her long neck that was made for my caresses.
Oh God, she slid her fingers into my hair, just like before. With unsteady fingers, I slipped her dress off her shoulders, unveiling the fragile white lace of her bra—an illusion of her purity, concealing nothing. This was too much; she felt like the first girl I’d ever touched.
My eyes roamed around her body, her breasts popping out of her dress, and I breathed in deeply, trying to hold myself back.
My gaze shot up into hers, but she was already watching me, her plump bottom lip between her teeth. She spread her legs further, wrapping them around me.
"I'm also petrified." She assured me so uncertainly. But she was right—I really was scared. Scared to touch her, to be beside her. Her words at the airport had pierced my heart so deeply that I couldn’t believe this was reality and not some cruel trick.
But the sweet reality was suddenly interrupted when a noise sounded—a door being unlocked somewhere at the entrance of the library. Our heads whipped around to the front door, just in time to see a security guard about to step inside and catch us right in the act.
Without hesitation, Isla fixed her dress and quickly jumped off the table, but it was too late for us to run—the man had walked in. She pushed down on my shoulders, and I obeyed, crouching close to the floor with her.
She clasped her hand on her mouth, unable to stop the giggles spilling out of her. What a contrast to her attitude when we were breaking in.
"Hello?!" The man called out loudly somewhere in the darkness. From underneath the table, we watched him take long strides in the opposite direction.
There was no time to waste. My hand in hers, I pulled her after me, hurrying toward the back door. The man called again, and to my absolute shock, Isla halted mid-step, turned around, and loudly shouted in his direction. "Hello!"
His flashlight was on us within half a second.
"Oh shit! Run!" She cackled and pulled me toward the door while I stood there like an idiot, watching what was happening.
The man said something else, but Isla ran with my hand in hers, laughing loudly. Just before disappearing down the dark hallway to escape outside, she turned around and pushed over a cart of books, blocking the path of the security guard.
Who was this secret rulebreaker?!
“This way!” She let my hand go when we were outside, and we sprinted down an alleyway. As soon as we were out of view of the library, Isla stopped and leaned on her knees to catch her breath, her joyous laughter the most wonderful sound in the world.
"Are you crazy? Are you actually trying to get us arrested?" I heaved deep breaths in while she giggled again.
"Maybe. I'd come visit you in prison." She swayed lightly, throwing me a small wink. Fuck. What was she doing to me!
I could only muster a chuckle, my eyes glued to her but unable to find any words to respond. My mind was mush beside her again, just like when I first met her.
"The orange jumpsuit would really be a change from your regular black and white wardrobe. I wonder how quickly one could take it off." She was now openly putting on a show for me. Dramatically, she looked up as if thinking it over, her finger at her lips.
I took a step closer, but she didn't move, instead leaning against the brick wall, her smile wide and daring.
"You'd have to be my wife for that kind of visit."
Suddenly, those words seemed so silly. Why the fuck wasn't she?! I loved her beyond measure; I was going to propose the night everything went to shit. But Isla shook her head, her careless laughter replaced by a wistful smile. "You're not marriage material, Roman."
