Page 97 of The Sweetest Revenge

Lightning flickered again. His eyes locked with mine, waiting.

"I'm yours." The confession escaped me just as thunder cracked overhead, as though the storm itself acknowledged my surrender.

His arm snaked around my other leg in one fluid movement. Strong hands gripped my waist, and I was weightless. My squeal of surprise was lost beneath another roll of thunder as he lifted me effortlessly. My back arched, hands scrambling to dive into his hair. The intimacy was dizzying, vulnerability and power exchanging with each ragged breath.

Darkness. Light. Darkness again as the storm played with the electricity. Every flash revealed us in a new position, like frames of a film reel jumping forward in time.

With my hands tightening around the back of his head, my pussy swallowed his face as my thighs clenched around him. He shifted, holding me as he lowered my back to the ground.

My muscles relaxed as my back flattened on the floor, and he gasped for air when I released him. His large hands wrapped around my inner thigh, forcing me to spread wider for him.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet." His words vibrated against my flesh, each syllable a new sensation.

He slid a finger inside me, a slow invasion that made my back arch from the floor. The rhythm he established started lazy, hypnotic, building like the storm outside. The windows rattled with thunder as his mouth covered my clit, the suction precise and merciless.

My thighs trembled uncontrollably. The air grew too thick to breathe properly, each inhalation shallow and desperate.

"Oh, my fucking God," I cried out, the words barely recognizable even to my own ears.

Lightning flashed, illuminating his face between my legs for a split second—his eyes locked on mine, watching, gauging every reaction. In that brief brightness, the intensity in his gaze undid me.

He added another finger, the stretch burning in the most exquisite way.

"Soak my fingers, baby," he commanded, voice rough with desire, "and come for me."

The darkness returned, heightening every sensation. Each thrust went deeper than the last, my body yielding to his relentless rhythm. His tongue circled with precision, creating patterns that made my consciousness splinter. Every muscle in my body contracted, preparing for release, the pressure building at the base of my spine like a gathering storm.

"Zaiden," I screamed as my entire body seized, pleasure blurring my vision as my back arched.

He removed his fingers as his tongue moved to my entrance, darting in and out of me, lapping up every bit of my orgasm. He shifted to his knees, and I pushed up on my elbows to see him. He was already shoving down his pants and boxers, releasing his massive cock before he ripped his shirt off, tossing it.

His body was a fucking masterpiece created by the Gods who obviously favored him.

He wrapped his hands around my thighs and jerked me to him, pulling my thighs over his, positioning himself between my legs.

"Condom?"

"No, baby," he groaned, fisting his cock before he dragged his head up and down the length of me, coating himself with my arousal. "I want to ride you raw." I shivered as goosebumps broke out over my skin. He nudged my entrance, and I held my breath as my heart pounded, anticipation sending it into overdrive.

Our gazes locked, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he sank inside me, filling me inch by inch. He dropped to his hands before lowering to his elbows, hovering over me. This time was so different. It felt like love and not like a punishment.

I liked both versions of him. The revelation should have troubled me more than it did.

I liked seeing the softer side of the beast—the vulnerability, the care, the tenderness I once thought lost forever. But I also craved the beast itself—the possessiveness, the intensity, the sharp edges that had cut me open and left me bleeding.

What did that say about me?

On a low, strangled groan, he withdrew slowly, painfully slow, before pushing back in. My hands flattened against his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath sweat-slicked skin. Each thrust went deeper than the last, a gradual claiming that felt like surrender and victory simultaneously.

His lips brushed mine, surprisingly gentle amidst everything else. "You are mine."

Three simple words that should have enraged me after everything, but instead sent heat spiraling through my core. He captured my mouth, devouring it with an intensity that matched the storm still raging outside.

I kissed him back with everything, every tear I'd shed because of him, every night I'd spent hating him, every moment I'd secretly loved him. Love and hate tangled together until they became indistinguishable, pleasure and pain blurring at the edges. His speed increased with my response, as though he could feel my emotional surrender.

The complexity of wanting someone who had hurt me so deeply should have given me pause. Instead, it pulled me under like a riptide.

His hips snapped forward, and I broke on a gasp. "And I am yours." Our heavy breathing mingled with his words. "Come for me, baby."

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