Page 95 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
“Trilby ... Fuck, you feel so good.”
“I love it when you say my name.” I gasp through the words.
“Then I’ll say it every day until I die.”
My head falls into the crook of his neck, and he thrusts firmly, repeatedly. I can feel something building, but it isn’t coming from where that kind of release came from before. It’s coming frominsideof me. Whatever he’s doing, it’s dissecting me limb from limb.
“Oh!”
“Fuck, Trilby, that’s your spot, isn’t it?”
I can’t speak.
He does something with his ass that I can’t even describe, and suddenly, everything implodes.
I bite down on my hand and grip his firm body everywhere that I can.
“Un, un, fuck, un.”
The sound of him losing control is like a symphony to my ears. My free hand has curled around his nape, which is now slippery with sweat, and my back is bouncing against the pillar.
And I’m rolling.
DearGod.
“Trilby ...” His voice is breathless. “Oh God, fuck, I’m coming.” He jerks forcefully and bites into my shoulder.
I feel his roar in my bones.
Then he comes.
And for the first time in my life, I smile around the curl of my fist.
Cristiano
I jerk into her soft body, pumping so much of myself into her I feel dizzy. My lips are pressed to her cheek. Slowly, she frees her knuckles from between her teeth and then sobs. It’s only a hiccup, but it draws my heart up my throat.
I put my palms to her face and lick a tear from her cheek. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
She pins her lips together and nods, then I let her bury her face in my neck.
I gently lower her feet to the ground and hold her steady as she lets it all out. “Shh, Trilby. I’ve got you.” I hold her close and match my breaths to hers.
A few seconds after her sobs subside, she lifts her head, and I almost drown in her damp lashes. She licks her lips and peers up at me.
“That was incredible,” she says in a gentle voice.
“Youare incredible,” I say, dropping a kiss on her nose. There’s more I want to say. So much more. But it would be meaningless, because I have to leave. Not just because I have business to get back to, or because I feel indebted to a brother who only begrudgingly saved my life, but because I now worry what he might do to his new wife if he gets even a hint that I want her for myself.
I drop my gaze to her thighs and see the streaks of red mixed with my cum sliding down the length of her legs. Without a second thought, I rip off my shirt and get to my knees.
She gasps in shock and sobs behind a clamped hand.
I clean her up with single-minded focus, using my fresh white shirt to mop up every drop of blood until she’s perfectly clean, then I press kisses to the flesh between her legs, silently thanking her for trusting me to be the first one to go there.
A shard of grief rips through me when I remember I won’t be her last or her only, and I stagger to my feet, shoving the soiled shirt into my back pocket. When I lift my gaze, hers is on the gun tucked into my waistband.
“I’m not going to stay for the wedding,” I say. My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.
