Page 105 of Hellbent
His eyes search my face, and then he kisses me, softly and deep. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him down against me. His skin is hot. And I’m surprised to find that his cock is already hard again, pressing thick and heavy between us.
He grinds against me, and I meet him with a soft inhale.
His lips trail down my throat, grazing the curve of my collarbone, the slope of my breast. One hand drags down my side, tracing the line of my body. When his fingers slip between my thighs, he groans into my neck.
His fingers slide between my legs, his touch rhythmic and unhurried, and my thighs fall open, my back arches. He teases me gently, coaxing my body to soften all over again, and suddenly I’m bucking beneath him, pleasure flashing hot across my skin. A cry tears from my lips as the orgasm hits, stealing my breath and bending my spine.
I’m still trembling when he shifts his weight, positioning himself at my entrance.
Then slowly, he pushes inside. Inch by inch. His hips roll deep, and I sink into the feeling with a soft gasp.
His body is so large, so solid over mine, every inch of him radiating heat. I run my hands up his ribs, over the slope of his shoulders, across the wide expanse of his back. The muscles there flex and ripple with every motion. He’s a living furnace. A beast of a man holding himself barely in check.
He moves slowly, each thrust pushing a soft, breathy sound out of me.
My legs tighten around his waist. My hands slide into his hair and I tug gently, needing him impossibly closer.
His breath saws against my ear, hot and uneven. I feel his entire body vibrate with restraint. He slides a hand between us, pushes down on my inner thigh, spreading me wider, fucking me deeper, and the pressure inside me builds again.
I come with a soundless cry, my entire body clenching tight around him, trembling from the inside out. It rolls through me like a tide, stealing my breath.
He moans and tightens his grip, lowering his mouth to mine, devouring me as he fucks me, harder and faster, until his breathing turns ragged, and he comes with a growl buried in his chest, his muscles locking tight, the full force of him pouring into me as his orgasm hits. His body shakes against mine. He falls on top of me, sliding his arms under my back, tight around me, hearts pounding in unison. He doesn’t pull out right away. His hips keep moving—slow, rolling thrusts as the last of the sensation ripples through him, and then we just lie there in the dark—bodies still joined, hearts racing.
The room is dark and quiet, filled with the heavy aftermath.
My eyes flutter closed.
The awareness in my body begins to melt, inch by inch. Every muscle lets go.
I’m warm. I’m safe. I’m with him.
Sleep comes slowly…then all at once.
I’m running again.
Barefoot, breath ragged, trees whipping past like shadows with teeth. The ground is cold and wet beneath me, slick with mud and blood. I don’t know whose. Maybe mine. Maybe his.
Branches claw at my arms. My legs burn.
There’s noise behind me—engines, laughter, the thud of boots on dirt—but when I look back, there’s no one. Just eyes in the dark. Watching.
Waiting.
I trip. Fall. Land hard on my hands and knees, skin tearing on gravel, pain slicing up my spine. I scramble up, try to run—but my legs won’t work.
I’m crawling.
Something moves ahead of me.
A shape in the dark.
Ryder.
But not him. Not exactly.
He’s in shadow, backlit by headlights that don’t have a source. His hair is wild. His fists drip red. His chest rises like he’s just come from battle—but his eyes are wrong. Black and vacant. Not seeing me.
“Help me,” I whisper.
