EXTRACT FOR
Under His Spell
(Daisy Rose)

"Anna, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "I just want you to understand." His hands pushed me down and he settled himself on top of me, keeping me trapped between him and the soft cushions of the couch.



Suddenly, he grasped my face between his hands so I could look into his eyes, so blue and beautiful that I could cry. 



Soundlessly, I clawed at him, fingers digging into his chest and arm, leaving scratch marks on him as I tried to get free. 



"Anna, stop!" he commanded, but I was trying my best to get away. He grabbed my wrists and pushes them behind my lower back, trapping them between my spine and the couch, the position pushing my breasts up into the small space between us. "You feel it too, don't you?" he whispered, his hips rolling into mine hard, eliciting a gasp from my lungs. 



His weight pushed me into the couch as he ground against me, the hardness of his erection pressing into my body. 



"I wanted to get close to you to hurt him. To show him the hurt I felt," he said, his free hand exploring the curves of my body. "But now I just want you for myself." 



I gasped hard when his hand found the smooth curve of my hips under my dress. He suddenly fisted the hem of my underwear and effortlessly tore through the fabric with a single, swift yank, contoured muscles on his arms rippling from the strain. 



My cheeks caught on fire as I tried to closed my legs shut, only to be met with the firmness of his strong hips between my thighs. The cool air brushed against my clit and I breathed shakily.



"Mateo, I think you're crazy," I whispered, my voice coming out in soft moans. None of what he had said made any sense. But it doesn't change the fact that when he touched me, I felt the same sense of being alive, of every nerve ending in my body being on fire. I wished I could freeze time so I could stay in the moment forever and speed it up so he could take me then and there.



Even the knowledge that Mateo was batshit crazy didn't change the fact that I wanted him. I wanted his fingers on me, in me, everywhere. 



"Perhaps I've finally gotten insane," he agreed, his eyes narrowing. "I only have you to blame." His hips continued to move against mine, corruptive and enticing. Keeping a hand locked around my wrists, he explored the insides of my thighs, his touch leaving trails of fire on my skin. When his fingers left my skin, I wanted them back.



The sound of his zipper opening rang loudly in my ears. 



"But you feel this too, don't you? The fire?" he growled.