Page 40 of When Death Whispers

This has to be a dream.

Right?

Except it doesn’t feel like one. Not with the scent of her—sweet and sharp, citrus and sweat—filling my lungs.

I spot him, finally—the monster—half-shrouded behind a tree, his orange eyes locked on her like he’s starving. But he doesn’t move closer. Only watches.

I don’t know what the fuck this is, or what the hell I’m doing here—but I know one thing. If Parker’s in it, there is no fucking way I’m leaving her alone.

“Hudson…”

My name rolls off her lips in a moan that makes my cock instantly hard, as if her voice alone had an on switch for it.

Her gorgeous ice-blue eyes are on me now, and she’s panting, needy, her back arched, pushing her tits up in the air and dammit if I don’t want to taste them.

“I need you. Now. Help me.”

Her legs fall open, her fingers clawing at the earth like she’s trying to anchor herself to something—anything—and not finding it. I stumble toward her, dropping to my knees, reaching for her hand.

My eyes roam the entire length of her body, trying to memorize every detail, but she’s almost entirely encased in shadows now.

“How? Tell me what to do?—”

She moves faster than I can process, grabs my arm, rolls me to my back, and straddles me in the same breath. Just like she did that stormy night under the trees, only this time… she’s not stopping.

Her heat settles against me, bare and slick, andfuck—I’m already pulsing for her. Her thighs bracket my hips, her body pressing against mine like we were made to fit. It hits me all at once?—

I’m naked.

She’s naked.

And she’s grinding against me like she needs me to breathe.

Was I naked this whole time? Did I come into this dream like this?

I don’t care. I don’t even have time to think. I don’t evenwantto think. Not when she’s on top of me like this, looking at me like her entire world revolves around me and her, right now, dream or not. Not when?—

Parker sinks down on me right then with a gasp, slow and unrelenting, and I swear my brain short-circuits. I feel every inch of her—tight, hot, perfect, and so fucking sexy—as she takes me to the hilt. Her head falls back, and the moan she lets out is going to haunt me forever. If we get out of this forest, I’ll still hear it. In my sleep. In the quiet. Every fucking day.

“Fuuuck, Parker, I?—”

“You should stop questioning the why, boy toy,” a deep voice growls from the dark. “Just give her what she wants.”

I jerk, trying to locate the voice, but Parker leans forward and steals my mouth with hers—biting my lip, sucking it, moaning into the kiss like her survival depends on it.

And just like that, the world narrows back to her.

Monsters, shadows, disembodied voices—they all disappear under the weight of her body and the taste of her tongue. She grinds against me with a hunger that borders on desperation. I can’t tell where she ends and I begin. All I know is I’m hers. Completely. Irrevocably.

My hands slide down, gripping her ass, guiding her rhythm to deepen the friction. Her gasp breaks into a needy moan that makes my blood boil and my heart damn near explode.

This is everything I’ve dreamed of—months of wanting her, needing her—and now she’s here, on top of me, taking what she wants. And I’m not about to let her carry it all.

I thrust up to meet her, matching her pace, pushing deeper. The shadows around her thighs slide down to my hands, wrapping around my wrists, pulsing in sync. One curls over her clit, teasing her in time with each movement. Another strokes inside her, and I feel it—feel her reacting to it, her moans turning feral, raw and frantic.

What brought us together in fear the last couple of days, has morphed into some sort of sexual fantasy, one with Parker’s breathy demands as the center of it all. I should question the why, but thoughts are a thing of the past when I’m buried so deep inside her warmth, I don’t even know my own name.

“Hudson.” Oh right.That’smy name. Fuck, it sounds better when she says it like that. Like it actually has meaning.

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