Page 37 of Knight’s Retribution

His soul fucking sighed and his demon started purring, content that she was there, that her skin was against his skin, even if it was just her hand. Rocco couldn’t contain the sound.

“Are you…is that?” she said again in that soft voice. “It sounds like purring.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Why? How?”

“My demon. We’re happy we have you back,” he said simply, his voice wrecked.

Her shuddery breath reached him, and she was quiet after that.

He thought she might be asleep, then she said, “Night, Rocco.”

“Night, pumpkin.”

Rocco didn’t sleep. For the next couple of hours, he lay there, his female holding his hand, and listened to her breathing, slow and easy. There was no fucking chance of sleep, not tonight.

Not when he was afraid he’d close his eyes and when he woke she’d be gone, not when he was terrified that this was all some dream.

And not when he kept expecting Diemos to bust down the door at any moment and try to take Kyler from him again, despite Scarlet and T’s reassurances that he wasn’t strong enough to get in here, not without the key. Lucifer’s power was still far greater than Diemos’s, and the only being who could break in here would be Lucifer himself.

Kyler whimpered in her sleep, wriggling. Rocco turned to her and forced himself not to tug her into his side. But her movements became more agitated, the noises she was making more urgent.

Her hand still griped his, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Baby,” he whispered.

She whimpered and rolled so she was pressed against him. As soon as her skin made contact with his, she stilled, calming. Her hand had released his, and she’d pressed her front to his side, her arm flung over his stomach.

“Kyler?” he breathed.

She said nothing. His female was out cold. She’d sought him out in her sleep, sought comfort from him, and he couldn’t bring himself to move her back. As badly as he wanted to hold her in return, he wouldn’t, not when she’d asked him not to. Instead, he put his hands behind his head, so he wasn’t tempted and let her warmth soak in, let her soothe him like he was her.

* * *

Kyler woke pressed against Rocco.

She was about to jerk back, but stopped herself when she realized he wasn’t actually touching her. His hands were behind his head. She lay there frozen for a minute, not sure what to do. She should move. She looked up at his handsome face. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing slow and even. Fast asleep.

God, he was beautiful.

When he slept, he looked like the angel he was, or half of him, anyway. Surprisingly, she was okay pressed against him like this. Rocco would never do anything she didn’t want him to, she knew that, logically she did, but when he touched her, her body reacted and her mind checked out completely.

Like this, with Rocco asleep, his hands behind his head, there was no risk.

So she stayed where she was, breathing in his scent, letting his always hot skin soak in and soothe her. He made a rumbly sound that hit her low in the belly, then kind of growled. The sound was familiar, comforting. Maybe she’d be okay? Maybe yesterday she’d still been freaked or in shock.

He grumbled, and one of his hands dropped to rest on his belly—

Kyler jolted back so hard and fast she almost fell out of the enormous bed. Panic seized her, gripping her by the throat so tight she struggled to drag in a desperate breath.

Rocco bolted upright, his hand automatically snapping out, reaching for her.

“No!” she cried and jerked back again, then winced in pain. Her hands came up, her eyes slammed shut, and she immediately curled into a protective ball.

Silence filled the room, all except for her harsh, ragged breaths.

Oh god.

Curling her fingers into tight fists, she gasped down her next breath. But she couldn’t get it in, her throat was too tight. The bed shifted, and she threw out a hand and shook her head.