Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

Killian nods and pushes me into the hall, slamming the door behind him. I open my mouth to say something—a ‘thank you’ or a ‘sorry’—but he doesn’t let me get a word out. Instead, he pushes me against the wall, his wade palm planted into my sternum. His face is stony, and I’d know that wild, unhinged look in his eyes anywhere. “Killian,” I say, fearing his retribution—a punishment for talking back to Nick. For talking to him at all. Instead, he crushes his lips against mine. The kiss is so hard, our teeth clash together painfully. I make a small, wounded sound into his mouth, but I can sense the rage pulsing under his skin, and I know he’s lost to his senses. His hand grips my jaw, my breast, and then my hip, wrenching my pelvis to his. It’s a crazed, possessive series of gestures, like he can’t decide how to best claim me. In a desperate attempt, I wind my arms around his neck, rubbing the hair above his nape in a soothing motion. And then I buck forward into his hardness.