Page 38 of Devour the Dark

Her moan is loud and high-pitched.

I slide up to her clit and make slow, deliberate circles.

Her ass sinks back, her body making an S curve, her hands still locked on the headboard.

Her breathing is shallow and fast.

I sense her cresting the edge.

Not yet.

I tear the delicate material of her panties from her body, exposing her pussy and sink my cock into her slick, warm wetness.

CHAPTER TWELVE

WENDY

Roc fillsme up and I gasp out. I had forgotten what it felt like to be fucked by a monster.

His left hand comes up to my wrist, wrapping around me as he pumps into me. With every thrust, I sense him giving in more and more until we are just two beings chasing something more than physical pleasure.

I had it wrong—Roc and I are more alike than I thought. We are deep, dark water wishing to be free of a dam.

We are a tidal wave—unleash me.

He fucks me harder. Harder. His breathing is labored at my ear, his body covering mine.

The headboard slams against the wall. Again and again and again.

Roc’s right hand snakes around my hip, his fingers sliding over my buzzing clit. I’m dripping wet and so fucking close I might scream.

I push back against him, sinking him deeper and he loses it, grunting into me, filling me up.

My own pleasure builds and builds and then the ocean wave crests.

My body tenses up, curls forward and Roc tightens his grip on my wrist, holds his fingers to my clit, forcing me to jolt through the aftershock again and again.

I breathe out, muscles blinking, causing me to shiver beneath Roc’s warm body.

He lets go of my wrist, then coaxes me down to the bed.

I practically melt into the soft mattress.

Roc slips away, disappearing into the bathroom, and returns with a damp cloth. “Open up.” He pushes my knees apart.

In the flickering light of the lamp, he looks dark and dangerous, like a shadow honed into a blade. But the way he takes care of me, tenderly, and gently, contradicts everything.

He told me he didn’t think he could love, but I can’t imagine any action more loving than this.

Satisfied, he returns to the bathroom to drop the cloth, then climbs into bed beside me, his back propped against the mountain of pillows. He tucks me into the crook of his arm, then pulls the duvet up and around me, ensconcing me in warmth.

The sheets are crisp. His body is mine. And I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe in a bed. Not in a long, long time.

My head resting on his chest, I can hear the steady beat of his heart.

It’s the most honest thing about him. The part of him that is man and not some myth.

I want to be held by him like this always. He and James both.

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