Page 59 of Veil of Shadows

“Mine,” she whimpered as her back arched. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Never,” I grunted, pounding against hers. I heard the headboard digging holes into the fucking plaster. “I’ll never stop. Ever.”

Then she snapped. “Voss! Yes!”

Her hands clawed down my arms, leaving streaks behind on my skin. I stuffed her full, feeling my cock pulse and my balls pull in as my hands fell to either side of her head. Sheraised herself against me, as if she couldn’t get enough, and her hands raked up my arm and toward my back. I shivered as her fingernails dug into me. Her orgasm rocked her, forcing her nails to slide down my muscles.

I couldn’t wait to see the marks in the morning.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped as she collapsed against my mattress.

She dragged me with her, wrapping her arms around my neck and yanking me down toward her. I was helpless against her wishes as her pussy pushed my dick out. Her sweating body held mine as I caught my breath. My muscles twitched with desire and need, ready to go all night, even as we laid there, completely spent.

“Mate,” I murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder.

She giggled softly. “Mate.”

I rolled off her body and pulled her with me until her head rested on my chest and her hair splayed across my torso.

“Hey,” Bexley said softly as a yawn dropped her jaw.

I smiled up at the ceiling as I played with her hair. “Hey.”

She slung her damp leg in between mine. “Fancy meeting you here.”

I chuckled as I peeked down at her. “Come here often?”

She snorted before she nuzzled her cheek against my chest. “Maybe I will.”

I looked back up at the ceiling. “I know you will.”

“You seem so sure of yourself.”

“You haven’t seen the best of me yet.”

She giggled. “Is that so?”

I plucked the flowers and petals out of her hair. “That, it is.”

“Well then, I look forward to it.”

My cock stiffened. “Keep talking like that and it won’t take long.”

Her giggling persisted. “I see that.”

I smirked as I flexed my pelvis. “You like seeing that?”

She snorted as she turned her head on my chest, her half-hooded gaze staring up at me. “Maybe.”

I propped a few pillows beneath my head so I could sit up and watch her.

“Hey,” I said softly.

She curled herself against me perpendicularly, just so she could look up at me. “Hey.”

Then, I saw it. A scar I thought I felt earlier around her neck, but hadn’t taken the chance to look at. It was faint, so she had it for years, clearly. But, as I reached my fingers out to trace it, she flinched.

“What made this scar?” I asked.

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