Page 36 of Red Dreams

She searches my face, trying to read my intentions. I let the mask of the Scythe fall away, revealing the man beneath. The man who would do anything for her.

“Do you trust me?” I whisper, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then help me show Cassie that forcing someone's submission will never be as powerful as earning it.”

I capture Layla's lips in a hard kiss. She responds instantly, her arms twining around my neck as she parts her lips to grant me entrance. I plunder her mouth, claiming her and branding her as mine.

My hands roam her body, skimming over the satin. I want to rip it off, to feel Layla's bare skin. But not yet. This is about devotion. There are no cameras in the bathroom. Cassie can’t see us in this intimate act, but she’ll undoubtedly hear us.

I worship Layla with gentle touches and reverent kisses, finding every sore and ache peppering her skin and showing her with my mouth what my words could never adequately express.

That she is cherished. That she is loved beyond reason. Beyond madness.

Let Cassie hear. Let her witness. Let it gnaw at her, fester in her malignant soul until she can't stand it anymore.

For now, though, my focus is solely on Layla—on bringing her pleasure and chasing away the shadows that cling to her. I trail my lips down the column of her throat, my tongue flicking out to taste her new tattoo.

She arches into me, a breathy moan escaping her lips.

“Kaden...”

The way she says my name makes me so hard, I’m relieved I’m not wearing pants. I allow my own robe to puddle to thefloor, then use my hands to slide hers off her shoulders, only the loose knot of the tie at her hips remaining.

She shivers under my touch, goose bumps rising in the wake of my fingertips.

“You're so beautiful,” I murmur against her collarbone before trailing kisses lower. “Let me show you how much I adore you.”

I take my time exploring her body, worshipping every inch with reverent hands and lips, conscious of her wounds. I trace the curve of her breasts, teasing her nipples with flicks of my tongue until they peak into rosy buds. Layla gasps and arches into my touch, her fingers tangling in my hair.

Slowly, I work my way down her taut, bruised stomach, dragging open-mouthed kisses along heated flesh. When I reach the apex of her thighs, Layla holds her breath in anticipation. I hook her legs over my shoulders and breathe her in, intoxicated by her heady scent.

“Kaden, please…”

I stop. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. Not even a little. But should we be doing…?”

“Trust me, Wraithling. Remember?”

I pull any reply from her lips by parting her glistening folds with my tongue. She cries out at the first long lick, hips canting to meet my mouth. I lap at her essence, savoring her sweetness as I circle her sensitive bud. Layla writhes against me, reduced to husky moans and gasps.

Slipping two fingers inside her tight heat, I stroke her inner walls, curling to hit that secret spot that makes her see stars. I can feel her clenching around my digits as I bring her higher.

“That's it,” I encourage between licks. “Let go for me.”

A few more thrusts of my fingers and flicks of my tongue send her over the edge. Layla releases a keening cry, her thighs trembling on my shoulders. I don’t stop working her through the waves of her release until she's boneless and sated.

Lifting my head, I take in the flush of her skin, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Slowly, I kiss my way back up her body until I reach her lips.

“I will get you out of here,” I profess against her mouth. “No matter what happens, never doubt that.”

I reclaim her lips in a deep, consuming kiss, letting it say everything I can't put into words—my devotion, my need, my promise to always fight for her.

When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers and sheathe myself inside her with one smooth thrust. We both groan at the exquisite sensation, fitting together like two halves of a whole.

I set a slow, deep rhythm, savoring each drag of my hardness against her tight heat. Layla matches me stroke for stroke, rolling her hips to take me impossibly deeper, whimpering and arching into me, her body begging for more even as she hurts. And still, we move, lost in each other despite the pain.

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