Page 191 of Traitor

For a second, I don't react. I blink up at the ceiling, my mind catching up to what just happened. Or... what didn't happen.

"Oh," I murmur, stunned.

His arms tighten around me, his breath still heavy against my skin. "Don't say a fucking word, Temper," he growls, his voice a mix of frustration and amusement.

I bite my lip, trying — really trying — not to laugh. "I mean... I wasn't going to say anything."

He pulls back, glaring down at me, but it's clear he can barely keep his laughter in. "Liar."

I smirk. "It's just... it's been a while, huh?"

His jaw tics. "Five years, two months, and about ten days, give or take a few."

That knocks the smirk right off my face.

I stare up at him, my chest tightening. "You—"

His lips cover mine before I can finish, his body shifting over mine again, pressing me into the mattress. "Be patient, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick, rough. "I'm just getting started."

And he is. I can already feel him hardening inside me again.

He rises to his knees, pulling me up with him like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around him instinctively, locking us together.

His hands grip my ass, strong and possessive, and he starts guiding my movements, slow at first, measured, agonising. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, swallowed by my mouth. Fuck, he feels too good. Too perfect. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard as I throw my head back. His lips chase me, finding my throat, my collarbone, my shoulder, my breasts. He kisses, licks and bites every inch of my skin.

And then his control starts to slip.

His rhythm quickens, his thrusts become deeper, rougher, faster, hitting that devastating spot inside me with ruthless precision. Pleasure licks up my spine, winding tighter, burning hotter. He keeps me like this for what feels like forever, playing with me, dragging me to the edge only to pull me back. My entire being is hanging by a fraying thread, my body on the verge of breaking, when I feel it — his muscles tightening, twitching, coiling. He's losing his grip.

And then he finally snaps. Fully.

I barely register the movement before I'm on my back, both legs thrown over one of his shoulders, his body caging mine, almost folding me in half. I feel him everywhere inside me. Filling me completely. My nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks, drawing blood. My eyes roll back, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. His hand moves to my neck, squeezing just enough to make my pulse hammer wildly beneath his fingers. To demand my attention.

"Eyes on me, baby." His growl is feral.

My gaze snaps to his and I'm gone. Completely fucking gone. I shatter around him, my body locking tight before trembling violently, pleasure overtaking every nerve, every thought, every ounce of reality.

But he doesn't stop.

He keeps going, dragging me through the madness, pushing me higher, deeper into oblivion. The pleasure is too much, too sharp, too overwhelming. I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but take it. Take him. Everything he's giving.

It's an eternity of continuous torture later that I feel his body tense, his breathing become ragged. Right before he spills inside me, he leans back, grips my thighs, spreads my legs, and his fingers find my clit. He circles, flicks, works me with ruthless efficiency, and I spiral again.

I don't just come — I fucking detonate.

My body is weightless, boneless, shattered into nothing but sensation. I can't hear, can't see, I can only scream his name like a desperate prayer.

When he finally collapses, his chest heaving, his arms wrap around me, dragging me over him, holding me close. Like he never wants to let go.

"Bones?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Have mercy. For tonight. Let's just...sleep now." My voice is a whisper. I'm dead.

His chest trembles on a chuckle. "Ok, baby. Sleep."

I try to get off him. Sloppily, because I can't really fucking move, but he grips me tighter.

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