Page 40 of The Pawn
He grins, weaves his hand into my hair and hauls me up to stand, turning me to face him. He studies me for a moment before he lifts me up in his arms and carries me to his bedroom, never breaking the lock of our eyes. He kicks the door closed and sets me on my feet at the foot of the bed. His eyes search my face and when he kisses me oureyes remain open and glaring. Angry kissing. Angry fucking. It’s our love language.
Love.
What the fuck is wrong with my brain?
“And you have not given?” he asks, then pulls me closer, mouth at my ear, scruff scratching my cheek. “The come sliding down your thighs would say otherwise, sweet Little Moth,” he whispers wickedly.
I wrap my good hand in his hair, tug at it to hurt him. I don’t even know why.
He takes it without flinching. Without forcing me to stop or trying to pull me away. I remember how he took my slaps, my fists, my nails. How he stood steady in the face of my fury. My fear. Solid and unbending. My dark angel. My Azazel.
“I still hate you,” I tell him what I’ve told him before although it’s not true. I know that now.
“You can hate me all you want. It won’t make you any less mine.”
“Sex is one thing. My soul is another.”
“Are you ready to talk about your soul then?” he asks, studying me, entertained.
My heart is racing. Am I ready?
He grins, gives me the slightest push at the center of my chest so I drop to a seat on the edge of the bed. He crouches down between my legs, wraps his arms around my thighs and tugs me to himself. I drop back onto my elbows.
“Then let’s talk about your soul. Because the thing is, as much as I want you, you want me, too. Youwantto belong to me.”
He shifts his gaze from my eyes to my pussy, and I am very aware of how his come is still leaking out of me. Whenhe dips his head to scrape his teeth over my clit, I gasp, fisting handfuls of the duvet as he begins to lap up his own come, mine, a fresh arousal building inside me, my clit still swollen and too sensitive.
“You want to be mine in every way, Little Moth.” He buries his face between my legs and doesn’t come up for air until I arch my back and press myself into him and it’s moments before I come, griping handfuls of the duvet, my eyes closed, head thrown back as he devours me whole.
Only when it’s over, when orgasm subsides and I lie boneless on the bed, does Cassian rise to stand to his full height, all powerful, a wide grin on his face, his lips glistening with his victory over me.
“And you are mine in every way. Body and soul, you are mine.” His eyes grow serious, that grin vanishing, expression hardening. “Understand that, Allegra. And know that I will wreck this world to avenge you. Know it here.” He sets his hand against my chest, over my heart. “Know it with your body. Know it with your soul. Know that I will destroy anyone and anything that stands in my path to avenge you,my Allegra.”
I stare up at him, startled, heartbeats wild beneath his warm hand. I’m still trying to catch my breath. I set mine over his and feel his warmth, his strength. I begin to shiver. Cassian sees it, he pulls his shirt over his head and slips it over mine before tucking me into the bed and pulling the blanket around me. He cups the back of my head and the way he looks at me makes breathing hard. Makes me think maybe he’s right. Maybe his claim on my soul is not nothing.
I gasp when my gaze catches on an angry wound on hisshoulder, the rows of stitches lined up like soldiers. “What happened to you?”
He glances at it like he’d forgotten about it, then shifts his gaze back to me. “That’s me coming for you.”
“What…” I touch it gently, look up at him, trying to understand him, this man who wants to possess me. Who is right in that I want to be possessed by him.
“I’d take a dozen more bullets for you. Do you know that?”
How did I not see it before? I’ve been so out of it, sleeping most of the time. I haven’t seen him fully naked or even shirtless since he brought me back.
The stitches are rough, the skin beneath warm. I look at the other scar on his stomach. The one that’s barely healed. The one I put there. There are others too. Old ones hidden beneath the dark ink of the Grim Reaper’s robes.
I turn my gaze up to his. “Why?”
“Why?”
I nod.
He touches my cheek, brushes hair back from my face. “Because I feel you inside myself. In here.” He touches his chest, hand over his heart. “I feel you in here, Allegra. And here.” He touches his stomach. “You are inside me just as I am inside you. I belong to you just as you belong to me.”
We stay like that, no more angry glaring, two souls bared, almost. My fingertips touch the space where his heart beats. I set the flat of my hand against it and he covers it with his, his touch gentle, his hand warm.
“Do you understand now, my Allegra?”
