Page 107 of Dark Awakening

His breathing grows ragged as he pulls away, growling, “Answer me.”

His hand tightens around my throat, and pleasure burns like wildfire.

I can feel myself on the brink of a brutal orgasm as I gasp, “Yes! Yes!”

Rhyland growls into my neck, filling me with an ache for more, pushing me back onto the hardwood table.

“Good. Now, come on my cock.” he demands

His thrusts are hard and fast as I surrender to his primal desire. Our bodies connect with each savage force. He dominates me, and I relish in it, succumbing to every pleasureful moment.

“I’ll make sure you remember this lesson,” Rhyland growls, as his hands dig into my hips and he slams his body against mine. I gasp at the incredible pleasure radiating and quickly erupt into a powerful orgasm that shatters me completely.

With a deep guttural roar, Rhyland releases inside me; his curses of ecstasy ricochet off the walls as he revels in the throes of his climax, sending wave after wave of bliss cascading over us both.

I retort, biting my lip, “Good. I'm enjoying your lessons.”

Danica

55

After our steamy session of control and submission, Rhyland and I rinse off in the shower. My phone vibrates insistently on the counter, John's name flashing urgently. I freeze, fingers curling tight around the device as indecision wars within. With a hesitant glance at Rhyland, his piercing eyes hold mine—his imposing body tensed with protective tension.

"It's John..." I trail off softly. Does duty compel me to Playful Pint despite all the crazy bullshit? Abandoning John feels such a betrayal after his years of steadfast support. Yet cold fear slithers down my spine at the thought of facing Azrael, and his ilk is still looming ominously.

I quickly read his text. I nibble my lip, anxiety a gnawing knot in my stomach. "The bar is swamped. He needs me to come in and help..." The words spill out faster than intended, defensive against my own creeping doubts.

Rhyland sighs, his strong brow furrowing with concern. "I don't like it, Dani. It's not safe for you to be out there alone, not with Azrael still at large."

A twinge of guilt goes through me. Abandoning John feels inherently wrong, especially after all he's done for me over the years. He's like family. But Rhyland's warning gives me pause—Azrael and his men are a real and ominous threat I cannot blithely ignore. I nibble my bottom lip anxiously, torn between loyalty to my friend and mentor and debilitating fear for my own safety.

"Rhyland, I have to go. John's been covering extra shifts for me; his mom is sick. I can't just leave him hanging when he needs me." My words come out stronger and more insistent than I had intended.

Rhyland steps closer, his skin's earthy, salty signature scent enveloping my senses. "Promise me you'll be smart and stay alert. No unnecessary risks," he insists, his striking eyes searching mine for some small measure of reassurance.

My breath catches at the promise's weight, now settling leaden over my shoulders. "Of course, I promise," I swear softly. The vow sounds pitifully fragile even to my ears.

I reach for Rhyland's hand and squeeze it gently, willing him to understand why I have to do this. "I'll be okay. John is like my own family—I can't abandon him now when things are so difficult. You have to trust me."

Rhyland hesitates, his jaw clenched with tension before he finally relents with a small nod, the worry in his eyes never fully receding. He steps forward and pulls me into a fierce embrace, his strong arms securing me against the solid muscle of his chest. I revel in his restraint, moved that he trusts me enough to make this choice, even when it clearly terrifies him.

"I'll sense if you're in any real danger," he whispers. "Call to me, and I'll come for you." His warm breath sends shivers skittering across my skin.

"Thank you for understanding," I murmur. With one final glance into Rhyland's stormy eyes, I grab my coat and step out into the cool evening air.

It's a few minutes before three o'clock, and the sun still shines brightly, but the streets are strangely subdued and quiet. Each hurried step I take in the direction of my car ratchets up the pounding tempo of my pulse. Azrael's presence haunts my psyche, and I find myself straining my ears for any subtle sound of footsteps echoing my own.

The familiar cacophony of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and live music washes over me as I enter the crowded bar through the heavy wooden door. Behind the counter, John’s tired face floods with relief at the sight of me.

“Thank god you’re here, Dani! We’re swamped,” he exclaims, motioning to the teeming horde pressed elbow-to-elbow.

I quickly loop my apron around my waist, falling seamlessly into the familiar rhythms of pouring drinks and serving thirsty customers. But despite the distraction of the busy shift, an ominous pit of dread gnaws relentlessly at my stomach. I glance anxiously at the door whenever it swings open, irrationally half-expecting Azrael's hulking, sinister form to appear.

Noticing my skittishness during a rare lull, John frowns with concern. "Hey, you okay over there?"

"Uh, yeah...just feeling a little on edge," I admit. The memory of Azrael surfaces.

"Don't worry, we've got your back," John reassures, gently squeezing my shoulder before diving back into the controlled chaos. But his words provide little comfort against the creeping sense of doom I can't seem to shake.

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