Page 76 of Nidev and Lyric

“Come for me, angel,” he rasped, his pelvis a constant grind into her clit. “I need to see you fall apart. I need to feel you break for me.”

Oh God, yes. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, digging her fingers into the flex of hard muscle as her orgasm raced up to meet his command, his need. Her climax crashed into her, ripping a cry from her throat and locking her body around him.

Nidev’s own release followed a heartbeat later, his strangled groans tearing from his chest as he came inside her.

His mouth rested on hers, his jagged breaths filling her as the shudder in his body rippled clear through her. He rolled on his side, pulling her with him, wrapping around her with a deep groan. Long after the pleasure faded, he held her. His mouth pressed to her temple, his voice a low, fractured whisper. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Lyric’s arms tightened around him, her tears coming hot and hard. “Me too.”

A KING AND HIS QUEEN

Lyric sat at the kitchen island, wrapped in his shirt, drowning in his scent. Her body was wrecked, ruined, reshaped. And she loved every bruised, aching inch of it.

And there he was—her executioner turned caretaker. Standing at the stove with that quiet, lethal grace, moving with an authority that felt as natural as breathing. The man who had shattered her only to piece her back together in ways no one else ever could.

His bare chest was a masterpiece of strength and ink, tattoos coiling over his scalp, down his neck, across the sculpted muscles of his back. The brutal perfection of him made her pulse thrash and her thighs clench, aching from how thoroughly he’d claimed her.

Nidev flipped something golden-brown in the cast iron skillet, the aroma thick and sweet. Creole-style pancakes, from the scent of it. Somehow, the most primal and cultured man she’d ever known was also the kind to make her breakfast like he hadn’t spent the night breaking her open.

She let her gaze trace the flex of his shoulders, remembering how they strained beneath her fingers, how they tensed when he came. Everything about him—his scars, his strength, his devastating beauty—made her stomach tighten and her chest burn with something so powerful it terrified her.

Nidev glanced over his shoulder, his silver eyes catching her staring. “What?” His voice was still gravel and sin, rough from sleep and from the things he’d done to her.

She didn’t even think. Just sighed. Smiled. “I think I might love you.”

The air shifted, his entire body going still. Then he turned off the burner, set the pan aside with a deliberate calm that only made her heart pound harder.

He walked toward her, his gaze feral and assessing, the predatory gleam making her entire body tense. He stopped before her, towering like some avenging god clothed in ink and skin. His hand covered her throat, fingers curling—not squeezing, just holding. Owning.

“You think,” he murmured, his lips grazing her cheek, breath hot against her skin, “or you know?”

The raw command in his voice made her body shudder even as she smiled. “…I think… I know.”

His grin spread, dark and burning. “Angel,” he murmured. Warned. Then his mouth crashed on hers, slow and devastating, drowning her in him.

The kiss was both possessive and tender, his tongue stroking hers with a reverence that only made her need him more. When he pulled back, she was boneless, her body trembling, her mind spinning.

“Would you like me to list precisely what I love about you?” His voice dropped to a dark, silky murmur, his fingers trailing down her jaw and over her lips. “How utterly captivating you are when you yield to me? How much I adore the way you break apart beneath my hands, only to piece yourself back together stronger and even more beautiful?”

Her chest tightened as she locked onto his gaze. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to hear everything.”

He released her throat and pulled the chair behind him, setting it exactly next to hers so his face was inches away. “I love the way you challenge me. The way your spirit refuses to betamed even when you surrender to me.” His fingers slid along both sides of her jaw, his gaze on her mouth. “It’s intoxicating.”

His gaze rose to hers. “And I love how you look right now… wearing my shirt… smelling like me. Unaware of how breathtaking you are. Of how much I need you.”

Her entire body shivered under the weight of his words. “Nidev…”

“Andthat,” he whispered, his thumb dragging softly over her lower lip. “The way you say my name.” His voice turned darker, rougher. “Especially when you’re falling apart. When your voice breaks. When you beg me to never stop.”

Her face flamed, her thighs pressing together at the memory. “I—”

He lips curved with a wicked look before he returned to the stove. He put the pancakes on a plate and drowned them in syrup before bringing them to her.

She smiled at the thick, decadent yumminess, picking up the fork. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me cut my own pancakes,” she teased, pressing the edge of her utensil through the fluffy layers.

He snatched the fork from her and took over the job, making her giggle with a sigh.

“I can get used to this royal treatment.”

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