Page 65 of The Devil's Pawn

I can’t see him. But I feel his aura, like a ghost you just can’t shake or a presence feathering over your skin. But as I shift right, glancing toward the shower door, I find his dark shadow.

He pauses, his hand on the door, and my nerve endings stir to life. My body craves his touch as my pulse wakes to the intensity he brings out in me.

I don’t trust myself with him. I’m someone else when we’re together. Someone I don’t mind being.

My body warms from the inside, wanting him here. With me.

Skin to skin.

Body to body.

Heart to heart.

This man does something to me. Something I’ve never experienced before, and something I never will experience again.

Chemistry, the kind we share, isn’t always earned with time. Sometimes it’s there from the beginning, for us to take and make it ours. And I want to make him mine, even if it’s only for a moment.

The door slides open a little at a time. My body is dripping, wet, bare, ready for this man to take what’s his. What I want to give him.

My heart jolts in my chest when I see his face, pieces of his hair falling over his forehead as he stares at me silently, emotions tensing over the contours of his face. My exhales fall faster as my eyes drift from his black hoodie down to his black sweats. His fingers are covered in blood.

I should be scared.

Turned off.

I should want to run. But I don’t. I only want him more.

Not everything’s black and white. There are a myriad of grays in the world, and he’s the darkest shade of gray. My favorite color.

I back up, making room for him. The way he gazes at me full of want and need—those eyes gliding from my face past my breasts and lower to my thighs—has my body crawling with anticipation. Craving to feel him sink into me for the first time. The more he looks, the higher his chest expands, and the more wet and wanton I become.

My palm extends for his, inviting him to join me. And without his eyes snapping away, he removes his sneakers, pushing them off with his heels before he comes closer.

Unable to hold on to another wasted moment, I move toward him, grabbing hold of his hoodie and pulling until my body smashes to him, my lips meeting his in a frenzy as my nails cling to the muscles of his back.

“Mmm,” I murmur, finally giving in to what we both want so desperately.

His groan shudders on my tongue as he sucks it, while his hand lands on the back of my head, pushing me deeper into his mouth. The pads of my fingers grasp the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it hurriedly down his body until it drifts to the floor.

He separates our lips for mere seconds and anxiously steps out of his sweats without glancing away while his t-shirt follows the same path. His thick, long cock springs out, and desire tightens and throbs at my center. I’m unable to quench it, and I don’t want to. I want this man inside every damn hole.

My hunger waits as my gaze feasts on him. Lustful breaths slip past my mouth; my eyes are now lined with his as he steps into the shower. He doesn’t give me a second to pull in another breath before he harshly pins me to the wall with a growl.

He grips the side of my face with one hand while the other clings to the back of my neck as his lips find mine. The brutal kiss is days of desire and days of push and pull finally exploding into madness. His feral groans fuse with my depraved moans while a hand falls to the base of my jaw, fingers roughly biting into my skin as our kiss turns raw. Unbridled.

He’s someone else. Someone I want with desperation. I want his hands piercing into me, marking me with a taste of him forever. When I’m long gone, I want to remember his touch against my skin as though it never left. His hands are a constant reminder of our all-consuming attraction.

His mouth is on my neck now, kissing a fiery path down to my breasts.

“Dante,” I whimper, my fingers carving through his hair.

His lips close around my hardened nipple as he looks up at me, madness lurking in the narrowed slits of his gaze.

“That’s right, baby.” He flicks his tongue over the hardened bud, gripping it with his teeth and pulling ruthlessly as I cry out. “Say my name just like that. Beg me to come like a little slut.”

My core pulses with an ache. I love the way he talks to me when he’s turned on. I grasp his soaked hair harder, the dirty words making me grow wetter. My other nipple disappears into his mouth, and he treats it just as brutally, groaning around my breast, which sends a jolt down to my pussy. I’ve never been spoken to this way, but I want more. I need it.

“I want you inside me. Please. I need you before—”

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