Page 146 of Sin Like the Devil

Releasing my hair, he abruptly pushes me down so I’m bent over with my ass high. I turn my head to the side to suck in ragged breaths as his thrusts deepen, finding an angle that pushes me past my breaking point.

“You made me ruthless. You made me cruel.” I moan through another punishing spank against my sore ass. “You made me into a monster fit to walk beside you.”

“Where.” He pumps into me. “You.” His cock jerks as I spasm around him. “Belong.”

My muscles spasm with the force of my hard-won orgasm. After all the baiting, he finally yields. Xander’s roar is a fucking triumph that makes me shatter. I steal his remaining control and plummet with it into the unknown.

My name rolls off his tongue like a lamentation. He’s grieving the loss of whatever flimsy protections remained in place between us. The hate that once kept us apart now binds us together in a far more intimate way.

The iceman has finally thawed, and it feels so fucking good to relinquish the fight. That realisation makes my release even more intense. I feel my extremities turn to mulch as Xander pours himself into me.

His body becomes a dead weight above mine. At some point, he collapses next to me on the bed, and we end up entwined. Our limbs are a sweaty tangle as we both search for air, neither able to form a coherent word.

Don’t do it, Ripley.

But the voice of reason can fuck off right now. I snuggle up against my enemy’s chest and rest my head over his out of control heartbeat. At first, it’s like embracing stone. Then a scarred arm curls around me. I feel his nose bury in my hair.

I’m where I belong.

Sleeping with the devil.

“What happens now?” I eventually break the silence.

His buried face doesn’t lift from my hair.

“I have no fucking idea.”

CHAPTER 24

RIPLEY

DROWNING. – EDEN PROJECT

My palms are slippery with anxious sweat as I’m escorted into the medical wing by the on-duty nurse, Nina. This quiet corner hasn’t been touched by the water damage that’s causing carnage elsewhere in Harrowdean. Half the institute is flooded or trashed after the storm.

Cleanup was unfolding as I picked my way through the rubble earlier to get here—tree branches, waterlogged leaves and all manner of unnamed detritus coating every surface. Patients are being confined to the unaffected areas, but a quiet word with Langley, who was luckily working, allowed me to pass the guards’ blockade.

“Is he awake?”

She holds open the door for me. “Yes. He’s under observation.”

“For how long?”

“Until his blood pressure stabilises. He was in a bad way last night.”

Breathing deeply, I follow her to Raine’s cubicle. The curtains are drawn. I have a moment to grapple my nerves, letting her walk ahead to pull back the thin blue fabric.

“Raine,” she chirps. “Visitor for you.”

Propped upright in the bed, Raine rests on several plumped-up pillows. His sandy-blonde locks are uncombed and pointing haphazardly in all directions, while a blanket covers his patterned hospital gown.

Those rich toffee eyes seem to gleam brighter when he breathes in, his lips quirking into a smile. I showered using his favourite body wash before coming. Seeing that grin makes my throat tighten.

His gaze swings around the cubicle. “Hey, Rip.”

“Anyone could smell like papaya, you know.”

“But no one could smell quite like you.”

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