Page 33 of Broken Shadows

My mouth waters as I track the sway of her hips, ass flexing with every step she takes. I ache to mark up her soft flesh with bitemarks.

Evie follows the cobble stone path to the small graveyard in a clearing near the manor, half frozen puddles splashing beneath her feet. Generations of human families and their servants are buried in this hallowed ground. I wonder what the priest who blessed this land would think of a demon holding the deed. I suppress my snort and shake my head. Saidblessingmight work on lesser castes of demons but never any of the royal bloodline.

My heart skips a beat when I see her pause by the wrought iron gate. Running her hands through her hair, she passes her fingers over the nape of her neck, drawing my eyes to her. She really does have the most elegant neck.

The gate creaks open as Evie walks through it, wandering from headstone to headstone, her fingers skating across their pitted surfaces.

She halts in front of a weathered headstone, the engraved name and dates sanded away by time’s merciless touch. Her fists clench at her sides, shadows swirling along the exposed back of her hands where her rich purple cardigan doesn’t cover.

I lurched forward slightly as her death magic sizzles to the surface, her steps falter. It’s as if it desires to tunnel through her back and violently draw me to her.

She spins to face me, her cheeks flushing red. “I told you not to follow me.”

“You talk of me playing games,” I state incredulously. “You ran off. Why?”

“Why are you pretending to care?”

My jaw clenches as I walk closer. “Do you want me to care?”

That is the only question that matters, but she withholds her response, her silence like a newfound fucking torture.

“Tell me,” I state, my heart hardening with each apathetic look she shoots my way. “If you were just caught up in the Shadow Realm, when time was suspended and we were alone, then I’ll understand.”

“Would you?” she asks with an arched brow, and sways her hips, knowing what that does to me. “I have a hard time believing you’d understand and leave me alone. You just want to fuck me. To use me.”

Gods I do.

She’s absolutely right.

I think about all the ways I’d use her mouth and I’m fucking hard. Something animalistic takes over my emotions, shrouding them until all I can think about is pushing her up against the headstone. I dart my tongue between parted lips, sensing her arousal from here. Her thighs clench together, coaxing a growl from my chest. “Don’t you want me to use you?”

I walk closer and push my chest against her back. I slide my hand up her sternum to her neck. My eyes briefly close as a gasp shutters through her. My other hand caresses the shell of her chilled ear as I tuck a loose lock of hair behind it.

“So thatisall you want?” she whispers.

I growl sensually, the carnality of it rumbling between us.No, it’s not,I confess while stroking the threads connecting the most essential parts of ourselves.

A sigh slips past her lips, then her throat bobs against my palm as she swallows. “You lie. Demons cannot love. So, what is it you want from me?”

What am I supposed to say to that? It’s true. Demons are not supposed to be able to love, so what do I feel? Infatuation? Or something else entirely?

All I know is it feels like I’m wearing my fucking heart on the outside of my chest.

I smooth a hand over her gorgeous, silky hair, and bring my lips to her temple and whisper, “All I know is right now, I just want to be close to you.” I squeeze against the sides of her throat gently, then trace my finger to her clavicle.

I draw my tongue down the side of her tense neck, flicking the tip over her carotid artery in time with her pulse. I loosen my hold and turn her to face me.

I hate, no, I despise how vulnerable she makes me feel. The weak and desperate emotions I vowed to never resurrect from my centuries in that Hell cage.

Her inner voice filters into my mind.Don’t pretend to care. Just tell me the truth, all you want is to fuck.

She looks at me as if that’s whatsheneeds to hear. As if my emotions are too much for her. I want to hold back, to show her this means more to me than she realizes, but before I can try, she slides her hand down my pants, wrapping her fingers around the bulge of my cock.

Fuck!

I collar her flushed throat and use my hold to drag her lips to mine in an impassioned kiss. I release a guttural moan as her tongue twirls against mine. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, the sensual assault spurring a desperate craving to claw my insides with fervid need.

So much fucking need.