Page 43 of Like a Hurricane

“Yes,” I whisper, unable to deny it.

From that first night to now, despite everything in between, I’ve always known he’d treat my body like it was a temple.

“We are inevitable, princess,” He captures my bottom lip in his teeth, adding a bite of pain right before he rolls his hard cock up between my legs, “Just like the devastation that comes after a hurricane, there is no stopping us.”

“It’s only for now,” my sentence ends on a moan as he grinds into me.

He chuckles, “No, no princess,” hands come away from my hair and down my body where he yanks up the cami and cups the undersides of my breasts. “You’re mine. I don’t share. I don’t give in. When you’re mine, you aremine.I am keeping you.”

He moves down my body to press kisses against my stomach, making my muscles jump and twitch at the contact of his lips to my skin. “I will keep you safe, and happy. Worship you. Care for you. Destroy anyone who dares to hurt you.”

His declaration startles me and I sit up, ready to make him stop. No, this was too much. He was too much. But then his teeth capture a nipple, and he bites, the sting of it enough to make me yelp but then his tongue soothes the hurt and his hand gently presses me back down.

“There’s no use fighting me, Arryn, you were made for me. I hadn’t realized I was waiting for you until I met you and now, you’re here, with me, under me, on my tongue, under my hands, buried so far into my skin there will be no getting you out.”

“Everett, stop,” My hand slides into his hair, gripping the thick, dark strands to keep his mouth against my breast.

I feel him grin against me and then he moves his attention to the other breast, the sensation of it rushing tingles down my spine until my thighs ache with the need for him.

“Stop what, princess?” He flicks his eyes up to me, looking at me from beneath his lashes, “You want me to stop worshipping you?” A hand slips beneath the waist of my pants and finds my soaked center, his fingers sliding through me so easily I should be embarrassed at how wet I am for the man.

“No, don’t stop,” I beg, “Just shut up.”

“So bossy,” He teases, “but here in the bedroom, you are not in control.”

“It’s too much for you to keep saying those things,” I groan as a finger dips inside, my spine arching away from the mattress.

“The truth scares you,” He kisses me, “but with you, I cannot lie.”

“You don’t know me, Everett,” My eyes latch onto his, “This is lust talking.”

“I know enough,” he adds a second finger, “Enough to know that there is no one better suited for you, than me.”

“Oh god,” I cry out as he presses his thumb to my clit and pumps his fingers purposely slow.

“You don’t love me right now, little storm, but you will.” He promises.

“Everett,” I plead.

“Come for me,” He whispers, kissing across my jaw, working me with his hand until stars burst behind my eyes and I clench around the fingers buried inside of me. “That’s it,” He rasps, “so fucking beautiful when you fall apart.”

He works me until the orgasm dims and I’m a mess on the bed, limbs heavy and chest heaving, body still shaking as I come down.

He withdraws his hand, his body still propped over mine and then he brings that hand up and sucks the fingers that were inside me into his mouth, groaning as if the taste of me is the best thing that’s ever touched his tongue.

And then he rolls off me and drags the sheets over us, not bothering to try turn the light off which I assumed he would, and I’d have to explain why.

But he doesn’t ask, instead choosing to pull me closer to him, holding me in the cradle of his arms.

“Don’t you…” I trail off, hoping he understands what I’m trying to say. But he doesn’t respond so I move my hand down between us, ready to give back what he’d given me, but he captures my wrist.

“Go to sleep, princess,” He murmurs.

“But…” I could feel how hard he was, he had to be aching.

“I just want to hold you.” He tells me. “Just let me hold you.”

Chapter Twenty-one