Page 91 of Violent Attraction

We kiss until we get lost, and I start to forget the pain, but I need more.

“Make me forget. Break your promise. Touch me, make me forget about every single thing. Remind me that I’m yours, and only yours.”

“You’re mine and always will be.”

25

If I could take away every single ounce of pain that Isabella has ever felt, I would.

The pain from her mother’s death.

Every single ounce of pain that I caused.

All the pain that Ronaldo is putting her through currently.

Everything, I would take it away.

I’m not the most perfect man, but when the woman that I love is sobbing in my arms because she is fearful about what could happen to her, I act. I may not act accordingly but I act either way.

And right now, the urge to act is strong.

As I stood there hearing her sobs and hearing the fear that runs deep in her, I wanted to take it all away. She shouldn’t be feeling this way and I will be damned if I don’t do anything about it.

So, I’m taking the pain away.

“Tell me that I’m yours.” Isabella begs once again as my lips make their way down her neck. I open my mouth over her skin and bite down.

Marking her.

“Every inch of you is mine,” I growl into her neck.

We are currently laid up on her bed with me on top of her, each of us enjoying how our bodies feel this close together.

Her hand travels from my hair to my neck, and I feel a small piece of metal against my skin.

It may be thin, but I feel it.

Her ring. She’s still wearing it.

Pulling back, I leave the glorious way her body feels under me to get situated on my knees.

Isabella looks at me with a confused look and maybe with a tinge of fear that I might leave.

The opposite actually.

I grab her left wrist tightly and look at the piece of jewelry that she’s wearing.

I fucking hate it.

She should be wearing the ring that I have for her, not this from a piece of shit man.

“Take it off.” I order, as if the thought of even touching it myself makes me want to explode.

Isabella is confused for a second before she realizes what I’m talking about. Within seconds the offending piece of jewelry is off of her finger and is thrown, landing somewhere on the floor.

“Better?” Isabella asks, her teeth taking her lower lip hostage.

I lean forward again, my chest to hers, my mouth an inch away from her ear, my hand going straight to her throat.