Page 126 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

“Not fair,” Delina pants out, and he’s holding her down, his legs pressed against hers, and she’s never felt so wonderfully trapped as he lazily circles a finger over her opening.

He presses another kiss against her collarbone, then slips his finger inside her, and she jolts against him.

“Wanted to see you fall apart,” he murmurs, curving his finger just right, until heat starts to pool inside of her. “Wanted just you, just like this.”

A small remote part of her finds it somewhat unlikely, with all the change and drama and strife in the last few months, but she shrugs that off, arching her neck up at his touch.

It’s almost too much, and the moment she thinks she’s about to break, he shifts, pulling away, and a gasp wrenches out of her throat at the sudden lack.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hand spreading over her chest, whisper gentle, and she shudders at the almost touch. “I can’t believe…”

Before he can finish that sentence, she kisses him again, as if she can compel him to do more with just her lips. As if the last month between them just made it stronger, made her able to control more.

It almost derails her thought, before he presses her back against the mattress with one strong motion, forcing her legs apart.

Her breath hitches, and he pauses, perilously close to her, his eyes flashing red for a split second. A split-second check in, like he could tell something that way, like he’s been checking in on her the entire time and just now she’s able to see it.

“Fuck me,” she whispers to him, and his brows flash up, before he grins and thrusts into her.

This time she does gasp, loud, before he covers her mouth with his hand, and the gasp dissolves into a giggle.

“You still need to be quiet,” he whispers back, laughter at the edge of his voice as he, almost lazily, fucks her. There’s a smile hidden in his eyes, the dimple on his chin, and she resists the urge to pull his hair again, to control the rhythm.

“You need to not surprise me then,” she whispers back, breathless, heat pooling behind her stomach. “I was fine before you surprised me.”

He grins at her, wide, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and she knows, she just knows, that he’s absolutely going to make her break.

But not if she makes him break first.

She twists her hands up and into his hair again, pulling sharply, and he moans, just slightly, barely audible, still thrusting into her.

So she rakes her fingernails against his scalp, sending goosebumps down his arms.

“Delly,” he warns, and she grins back.

This isn’t how it usually is for them.

Usually, sex is…comfortable. Great in its comfort, great in how predictable it is, great in how they could always improve each other’s mood through it. Great in how much she can count on it, can know that it’ll always be the same.

This…there’s some spark in there, something she doesn’t quite understand. Some strange thrill of danger, beyond the worry of being overheard. A newness, something a bit more raw between them.

Even their first time together hadn’t been this vulnerable.

He must see something in her face, for he stills, and for a split second his eyes gleam red at her. “Everything okay?” he whispers, his hand falling to the small curve of her hip, to the tender skin there.

Even the check in has a different weight.

She nods, words vanishing from her mind, and his next thrust pulls another small gasp out of her.

He hmms, his voice low against her, and another thrill goes down her back. Another small sense of danger, of risk.

“Are you getting into your head?” he murmurs into her ear, because of course he knows how to recognize that.

Even with the strangeness, he still knows her.

She nods again, ever so slightly. “Don’t stop.” Her voice is breathy despite herself, and her blood thrums with the need of his touch.

“Of course not,” he murmurs, hand smoothing over her skin, before he grins, a hint of mischievousness in his gaze. “You could always compel me if you needed.”

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