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Demyen buries his face in my neck. I feel him suck on the curve, pressing with his teeth, and I want him to mark me. Mark me, claim me, make me his in every way he can.
My hands smooth over his back, gripping as he moves faster. But then he thrusts a bit harder, hits a new unfamiliar spot deep within me, and my fingernails drag over his shoulder blades.
And I’m suddenly back to that sweet edge of oblivion.
“Come with me,” he breathes in my ear.
I don’t know if I nod. I don’t know if I even verbally respond. I’m checked out, on another planet entirely. All I know is that I can feel him thicken and pulse. My legs tighten around him, pulling him harder into me.
And then he’s grunting, gasping, filling me with heat and taking me tumbling down with him into the sweet blackness of oblivion.
9
DEMYEN
Goddamn.
I have to take several long, slow, steadying breaths to regain any semblance of control over my own limbs. My heart rate, on the other hand, is a lost cause—it’s pounding so fast I’m worried I might go into cardiac arrest.
The cause of my heart condition is barely conscious beneath me, smiling and glowing in the aftermath of our mutual—and mutuallymindblowing—orgasm.
This was not on tonight’s agenda.
Shewas not on tonight’s agenda.
But the moment I saw her standing there, here in the hotel suite I randomly chose just to quickly rinse off the champagne she spilled all over me…
It was as if Lady Luck personally carried Clara straight into my arms.
Who am I to deny a gift from the goddess of fortune?
I ease myself off of her and roll to the side, but I tuck her into my arms as I settle into the bed with her. I make sure to drape her injured leg over my thighs so her ankle stays elevated. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. It might just be a convenient way to justify this need to caress the soft skin of her thigh.
She lays her head on my chest with a happy, purring sigh.
I wasn’t just “in the moment” when I told her she’s beautiful. She is, from the way her olive green eyes glow and her long lashes flutter when she’s experiencing pleasure, to the deliciously supple curves of her body.
And the way she tastes…fuck.Every inch of her is exquisite.
It helps that she’s inmyarms, inmybed, inmyhotel. Wearing my faint bite marks, her sweet honey scent mingling with my own all over her skin.
Like I said: exquisite.
But she hesitated when I asked her if she knew just how beautiful she is. I didn’t miss the way she paused. The slight frown, the wrinkled brow.
It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together: she’s running from her ex. There’s no doubt he’s fed her lie after lie just to keep her under his thumb.
She’s free now, though.
His fucking loss.
An idea comes to me suddenly. I’m fully aware it’s conceived from a combination of my own pride, possessiveness, and a craving for more of the shit we just did. But there’s also anelement of protectiveness swirling in the mix. Especially when I start to wonder what might happen should her ex find her here.
I don’t have any idea who he is, or what he’s done.
But I already know I’m going to make sure he has a hell of a time finding Clara.
“Come home with me.” The sentence flies out of my mouth before I have time to really think it through.
