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I’m dying with wetness when he’s not touching me, so I lift trembling fingers to his lips, tracing their firmness, ghosting over his stubble.
He kisses my fingertips, breathing hard.
He’s shaking, too.
Wow.
“Roland?” I curl my fingers against his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Groaning, he closes his eyes, turning his face into my palm and rubbing against me like some wild beast, his hands curled hard into the sheets surrounding me.
“You have no idea, Callie. No earthly clue how bad I just want to tear you apart,” he whispers raggedly. “I’m trying not to fucking hurt you, woman.”
Holy hell.
My eyes widen. My heart stops. And my entire being jolts with lust so strong it takes my breath away.
To see Roland Osprey—cool, calm, utterly in control of himself and his domain—this wild and unhinged over me...
My pulse doubles, and I trace my fingers down to his strong throat.
“Don’t be gentle then,” I whisper. “I’m tough. I can take it. I can take you.”
His eyes open, glimmering hot with blue fire that could blot out the sun.
“Can you?” he growls.
His final words before he shows me what it means to be devoured.
His body sinks against mine, his weight crushing me, every inch of solid muscle moving against me as his hips twist between my thighs.
His bulk spreads me open, leaving me vulnerable to the slow-burn thrusts of his hips. Every stroke taunts me with the scrape of his cock against my panties through his denim.
Vulnerable to the hands that grasp my hips and dig into my ass like they’re hellbent on claiming it for life.
Vulnerable to the mouth that rakes over me in greedy kisses, leaving red marks on my breasts, teasing my nipples to aching fullness and arching my back.
Instinct makes me struggle.
But God, I don’t want this to stop.
It feels so good it hurts, my nipples throbbing. My panties are soaked and scraping his jeans as he becomes a human frying pan of friction and demon pressure.
This man is go big or go home writ large in a human being.
And he uses his entire body to obliterate me.
Every time I twist, it just drags me against him, and sparks blow through me from head to toe.
His hands, his mouth, his tongue dive everywhere, until there isn’t an inch of me he hasn’t touched, tasted, marked.
I’ll be a different person after tonight.
Because before his bed, I never knew how it felt to be touched by a man like this.
Before tonight, I never knew what it was to be craved more than a man’s next breath.
Before him, I never knew surrender.
“Ro-land!” I sputter. I don’t have a single prayer left, crying out his name as his fingers heave my panties aside, pulling them tight against my skin.
All the better so his fingers can slide through my folds, circling and teasing and plunging in with a sharpness that makes me buck.
I almost nearly shriek, wrapping my thighs around his hips.
Digging my heels into his legs, I’m writhing as his long fingers invade me again and again with such evil precision, faster and faster, thieving the breath from my lungs.
I’m flipping dizzy.
I grab his shoulders, dig my fingers into his hair, and drag my nails down the back of his neck like I’m searching for a way to give back.
Can I punish him for the way he’s savaging me, tormenting me, making me want so much more with every touch?
His body is a wall, this slab of pure muscle flexed against me.
His sheer bulk dominates me at the most primal level, leaving me weak to his touch.
And that weakness explodes through me as my entire body tenses from inside, catching hard.
This burst rushes through me when he finds my clit, putting his thumb to work, detonating the fireball in my core and hurling me to the edge.
I scrape his back harder, dragging up handfuls of his shirt.
“Roland. Roland, I’m...I’m going to—”
“Not yet. Not until I’m ready for you,” he whispers against the curve of my breast, leaving another hot, sucking mark on my skin as he withdraws his fingers.
For a second, I’m painfully empty.
Honestly, I could sob with how close I am—but even if he’s cruel, he’s not awful enough to deny me for long.
His tongue flicks over my nipple, just enough heat to keep me on the brink. Then he tumbles me back against the pillow and rears up. He leans back, shoving his jeans down and then his boxers.
His cock leaps out like an instrument designed for punishment.
I can’t help it.
I gasp when I finally see how thick he is at full mast.
“Come closer if you like it that much,” he growls, his eyes bristling with pride.
I lick my lips and crawl forward, shuddering when his hands push through my hair with nefarious intent.
Our eyes meet.
My lips part.
He grabs my hand and shoves it on his length, curling my fingers around him, helping me find my rhythm with long, winding strokes.
