Page 24 of Red Dreams

“Layla,” he rumbles, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You feel ... fuck, you're perfect.”

I answer him with another roll of my hips, urging him even deeper. He curses, low and harsh, his control snapping.

“Forgive me for what I'm about to do to you,” he says hoarsely. “I want to treat you like glass, but there's nothing soft left in me. The Scythe took me over a long time ago—” His eyes rake over my bruised body curled around him. “And he doesn't know how to be gentle.”

He begins to move then, pounding into me with a sudden, primal ferocity that chokes my breath. The slap of wet skin against skin echoes obscenely in the marble shower, punctuated by my increasingly desperate cries.

Kaden sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward relentlessly as he drives himself deeper, harder, faster. It's almost too much, the line between a good ache and a bad ache—those shades of gray—blurring until I can't tell one from the other. But I don't want him to stop. I never want him to stop.

The cool tiles at my back contrast deliciously with his body's fiery heat and the spray's blanketing warmth.

Steam billows around us, adding to the dreamlike quality as we lose ourselves in sensation—the slick slide of skin, the sting of nails dragging over goosebumped flesh, and the sparks traveling along my nerves.

The room I hated so much and now love.

I hold on, nails scoring angry red lines down the flexing muscles of his back as I encourage him with wordless cries and pleas for more, harder, faster.

The whirlpool low in my belly circles tighter with every thrust, every brush of his dick against my aching clit.

“Yes,” I keen, my head thrown back against the wall as I give myself over to the exquisite agony of his possession.

The sharp sting of water against fresh wounds is soothed by his hips, slowing the slide against my sensitive flesh until I'm keening, my head thrashing against the wall. Then a powerful thrust hits that perfect spot inside me, stoking the flames.

He snarls, baring his teeth against my throat before biting down hard enough to mark. I cry out, my body bowing into his touch, silently begging for more. Always more. He gives it to me without hesitation, one hand releasing my thigh to palm my breast roughly. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, tugging just shy of too hard.

“You're mine,” he rasps, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust that makes me see stars. “No matter what happens next, you will always be mine.”

Tears prick my eyes, the salt mingling with the rivulets of water streaming down my face. “I’m yours. My heart is yours.”

Something raw and broken twists his features at my declaration, and his rhythm falters for a beat before redoubling in intensity. He kisses me again, devouring me like a man starved. I match him with equal fervor and pour every ounce of my love, my lust, into the clash of our mouths.

“That's it, Wraithling,” he praises. “Let me feel you come apart on my cock.”

“Kaden,” I pant, my body straining against invisible bonds. “I'm going to ... I can't...”

“Let go, Layla,” he commands. “I'll catch you. I will always fucking catch you.”

With a crushing sob, I come apart in his arms, my inner muscles clamping down on him like a vise.

That’s all the encouragement he needs. As the shower rains down on us, Kaden follows me over the edge with a guttural shout, shuddering as he spills himself deep inside me.

We stay locked together as we come down, our hearts gradually slowing from their frantic gallop. Kaden peppers gentle kisses across my face, my neck, my shoulders.

“I thought I lost you,” he says against my clavicle.

The water trickles to a stop as Kaden guides us away from its warmth. He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist as if reluctant to let go. Just as reluctant, I trace the paths of water droplets on his chest, sliding down to where scars and cuts crisscross his skin.

Kaden’s thumb brushes my cheekbone, drawing my head up. Our breaths mingle in the steamy air, forming gossamer threads of three unspoken words, the scariest ones of all.

I love you.

I said them to Kaden before I was taken, pressing the meaning into his lips before being torn away from him. He didn’t say them back, and I don’t think it was because our time was cut short. Even now, after everything we've shared, after the reverence he showed my body, those words remain locked behind his walls.

I understand. Love is a liability he can't afford. But understanding doesn't stop the ache.

Those words sit heavy on my tongue again, but I force them back. This isn't the time, not with his lost daughter's rage waiting beyond these walls.

“We should dry off,” Kaden says, his hand falling from my cheek.

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