Page 47 of Unholy Nights

The mother of his children.

I want that.

My orgasm hits me like a bolt of lightning, a blinding wave of pleasure that steals my breath and sets my soul on fire. I cry out his name, my body shaking and spasming in his arms as he chases his own release. His movements are wild, desperate and he grips the back of my neck and pulls me down onto him so hard he can’t get any deeper inside of me while my back slides against the smooth glass.

With a roar, he comes, his cock throbbing and twitching as he empties himself, filling me with his release. It goes on and on, and he buries his face in my neck, his breath hot on my skin. We cling to each other in the aftermath, our bodies still joined, his cock still hard and deep inside of me. It twitches with aftershocks and his legs shake from holding me up, but we don’t move. We stay like that for several minutes, just holding each other as we catch our breath.

There's shift in the world around us. It might sound crazy, but it's like an ancient power has given its blessing. I'm not religious, not really. But this... feels divine.

Whatever it is, there's a feeling of rightness. Of belonging.

Of two souls finally finding their way back to each other.

And when he finally slips out of me, his cum dripping down my thighs, my eyes sting with the loss of him. I try to blink back the tears but that was so overwhelming that I can't. As they spill down my cheeks, Cohen catches them with his thumb.

His rough fingers find their way under my chin and he tilts my head up. "I feel it, too. Every second I'm not inside of you is agony," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead while we both stand completely naked under the glass with our skin painted like the northern lights by the moonlight. "But I promiseyou, little phoenix, it will be like that every time. You will never regret giving yourself to me. I'll spend the rest of my life proving it."

There'ssomething poetic about watching an angel sleep after you've corrupted her in a church.

I can't stop staring at her as she sleeps in my arms, her body curled against mine in the pre-dawn darkness of her bedroom. Getting her back to the house without being seen was a challenge—especially since I couldn't keep my hands off her for more than thirty seconds.

The marks from the velvet ribbon circle her delicate wrists like bracelets, and my cock twitches at the sight. Physical evidence of her submission, a testament written in faint red lines across her skin that tells the story of how she gave herself to me in that sacred space, trading her innocence for my darkness.

Her dark hair spills across the pillow, and I brush my fingers through the silken strands, savoring how they slide between my fingers. Everything about her feeds the darkness in me. Each soft exhale brushes against my chest, a reminder that she's real, that I finally have her where she belongs. The steady rise and fall of her body against mine. The way her lips part with every breath, still swollen from my kisses. The flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks as she dreams.

I wonder if she's dreaming of me. Of what we did in that chapel. Of how I claimed every inch of her body and carved my name into the marrow of her bones.

A possessive growl builds in my chest as I remember the way she looked spread out on that altar, bound and begging. The way she took my cock like she was made for it. Like her body had been waiting nineteen years just for me to fill it.

"Cohen?" Her voice is soft and sleepy as her eyes flutter open. Looking into her eyes in the darkness feels like staring into an abyss I want to fall into, and something in my chest tightens. "What time is it?"

"Early," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep, little one."

She shifts against me, and I have to bite back a groan as her thigh brushes against my hard on. "Will you stay?"

"No." The word feels like razor blades in my throat. "Though walking away from you might actually kill me." I stroke her cheek with my thumb, hating the disappointment that clouds her eyes. "Your mother will be up soon, and as much as I want to stay buried inside you until the world ends, I need to handle some things." Like making sure Daniel Montgomery Jr. never gets within fifty feet of what's mine.

Her lower lip juts out in a pout that makes me want to bite it, and a small furrow appears between her brows. "What things?"

I smooth my thumb over that furrow, erasing her worry. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with. Just some business matters that need my attention."

She pushes herself up on one elbow, and the sheet falls away from her chest. The sight of her perfect breasts, marked with my stubble burn and love bites, makes my mouth water. "You're planning something."

Smart girl. Too smart for her own good sometimes.

"I'm always planning something," I tell her, keeping my voice light even as my eyes drink in every inch of exposed skin. "It's what makes me so good at what I do."

She bites her lip, and my control frays. Before she can blink, I have her pinned beneath me, my cock pressed against her pussy. It's still slippery from all the fucking we did when we fell into her bed last night after the chapel, and I slide against her with a groan. "Do you know how hard it is for me to walk away from you when you're looking at me like that? When your body is aching for mine?"

"Yes," she says, her eyes locked on mine. "As hard as it is for me to let you walk away." She goes back to nibbling on her lower lip.

"Don't bite that lip," I growl, my free hand sliding down her body to cup her breast. Her nipple pebbles against my palm. "You know what it does to me."

"Maybe that's why I do it," she whispers, and fuck if that hint of defiance doesn't make me want to put her on her knees and shove my dick between those pretty lips. But she's sore. She can't take any more until she's rested. And I need to get to work.

I lean down, my mouth a breath from hers. "Don't play games with me. I'll win every time." I brush a gentle kiss against her lips and roll off the bed, tucking my raging erection into my pants and zipping it away. If I don't leave now, I never will.

"Greedy girl." I scan the floor for my clothes, trying to ignore how she makes the sheets rustle as she sits up to watch me. "But I have to go. Your mother will be up soon, and I need you to act normal at breakfast." I find my shirt tangled with her torn nightgown and pull it on, my eyes drawn back to her. Her hair is wild from my hands, her neck marked with my kisses. "No matter what happens today, remember that you're part of me now, and I'm part of you. Nothing can tear that apart. Everything that's coming... it's all for you. For us."

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