Page 144 of Dukes of Peril

His steps falter, and he breaks away, searching my eyes. “You mean…?”

I answer by lifting my shirt over my head, careful not to irritate my wound. Next, I step out of my shorts and panties, fighting a grin at the way his eyes descend, indulging in me just as much as I indulged in him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, stepping forward to touch me, his rough knuckles brushing gently over the curve of my breast. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I’ve spent all day sore and nervous, pulling at my hair, gnawing at my fingernails, crying and grieving, and I haven’tfeltbeautiful for a single second of it.

Not until right now.

He kisses me, and this time when his hands cup my ass, he uses a hard grip to lift me up, dropping to the mattress and taking me with him. He settles me astride his hips, grunting when my pussy makes contact, grinding down.

Lips skating over my jaw, he asks, “You’re sure you want to do this? Just us?”

“Yes,” I answer, and then his hand rises up to cup my breast in a large, warm palm. “God, yes.”

Every press of his lips against my neck feels like a spark, one that travels straight to the cavern in my chest—the one that makes me feel lost and alone. The truth is, I’m not. Neither is he.

I’m struck by the urge to feel him in me, to feel him bury himself inside, so intense, so desperate. Holding his stare, I roll off his body, scooting back until I settle in the middle of the bed, resting on my palms. “Like this,” I say, parting my thighs. Even though my toes curl sheepishly, I make myself say the words aloud. “I want you like this. On top of me.”

He tears his heavy eyes away from my center. “Lav, your back.” Even though he touches my leg, hand gliding up to my knee, a worried crevice forms between his brows. “It’ll hurt you.”

“Good.” Breathing hard, I catch his hand when he goes to pull it away, displeasure flashing in his eyes. Quietly, I explain, “I’m going to look at that scar one day and remember that it hurt. If I’m going to remember the pain, then I’d rather remember it hurting because of something good,” I tug him closer, making space for him between my legs.

He relents, ducking down to press a kiss in the middle of my belly. “Sometimes at night, I wake up to check on you,” he whispers, his fingers dipping into the slick heat of my folds. “Just in case you’re lost in there. Sometimes Nick or Remy catch me–give me shit about it. But it only seems fair.” He slides two thick fingers inside, his blue eyes rising to meet mine. “You know that’s what you did for me, don’t you?” I gasp when he curls his fingers, my hips bucking up off the bed. “I was asleep, Lav. Walking around paralyzed and lost. Just getting from one day to the next. And then you showed up…”

Before I can even think of a response to that, he’s dipping down to lick me open, his tongue gliding around his fingers. I clench my fists into his hair and savor the ride, knowing exactly what comes next.

Still, when the third finger sneaks in alongside the other two, I hiss, tugging him up to taste myself on his lips. “Please,” I beg, watching the heavy sweep of his eyelashes when he blinks.

“You can always call out to them,” he says, thrusting his fingers in and out, stretching me. His blue eyes pierce right through mine as he searches my gaze. “I won’t hold it against you.”

Groaning, I wind my legs around his hips. “Stop.”

Immediately, his fingers are gone, body rearing back.

“No, don’tstop.” I clutch for him desperately, drawing him back in. “I mean… stop assuming a crash position, Sy. I need you inside of me. Now.”

His jaw is taut as he hovers over me, grasping the base of his dick. “Yeah?” he asks, running the tip through my folds. His eyes spark, and I think I could get used to the cockiness there. “I haven’t even made you come yet.”

I chase his cock with my hips, bucking into it when it lines up. “I’m ready. I promise, I’m–”

Sy’s whole body flexes when he thrusts, sinking the head of his cock into me. It’s not like it used to be. I’m prepared for the stretch, forcing my muscles to relax as I gaze up at him. His eyes are clenched tight, mouth pressed into a tense line. It doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.

“Sy?” I stroke my thumb over his lip. “Come back to me.”

“Sorry, it’s just–” His eyes blink open to meet mine, nostrils flaring with a long inhale. “You’re so fucking wet.” He punctuates this by rocking his hips, easing another thick inch inside. My jaw drops at the feel of it and he reacts by tipping down to lick into the crease of my lips, carefully pushing harder.

An agonized sound punches from my chest as I grip his back, pulling him closer. “More.”

He gives a tight shake of his head, and at first I worry he’s going to say no. That we’ve gone far enough. That his control is frayed after a long, tumultuous day. But then he pushes his fist into the mattress beside me and bears down, fucking his dick in deeper, and I realize what it is.

He’s trying not to come.

When I spread my thighs wider, making room for him, his growl vibrates against my lips. “Fuck.”

I pluck a gentle kiss from his mouth as I rock up against him. Even though he’s only half-seated, I still feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of him, throwing my head back to gasp when he pulls back to thrust.

Sy fucks me in a slow, torturous rhythm, damp sweat building between our bodies. Making love to Nick is always all-consuming, and when Remy’s inside of me, sex is basically a wild, emotional tornado.

---