Page 41 of The Devil's Wrath

His fingers dug into my hips as he took me with feral intent like a man possessed—a dark angel claiming his mortal lover. One hand slid around my front to massage my swollen nub, his fingers working in tandem with his thrusts. “You feel so perfect wrapped around my cock,” he rasped. “Like you were made just for me.”

I could only whimper in response, too lost in the intense sensations to form coherent words. There was no other way to describe it—we fit together like two puzzle pieces, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as if we’d done this dance a thousand times. He felt incredible moving inside me, hitting that sweet spot within me on every drive of his hips. Pressure coiled tighter and tighter in my core, my inner muscles beginning to flutter around his pistoning length.

As if sensing how close I was, he changed the angle of his thrusts slightly, and I keened, my head falling back against his shoulder as my pleasure crested.

“That’s it, little bird,” he rasped in my ear. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you shatter around me.”

His fingers moved faster over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and that was all it took to send me hurtling over the edge. My inner muscles clamped down on him as I came with a hoarse cry, one that I had never heard come out of my mouth before. He swore under his breath, his hips stuttering as my tight walls gripped him like a vice. Afew more erratic thrusts, and then he followed me into oblivion, spilling himself deep inside me with a guttural groan.

He collapsed against my back, his chest heaving as he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. We stayed like that for several long moments, our ragged breathing echoing off the tiled walls. The hot water continued to cascade over our joined bodies, soothing our fevered skin.

Finally, he withdrew from me, and I couldn’t help the small whimper of protest that escaped my lips at the loss of him inside me. He turned me in his arms, cupping my face in his large hands as he gazed down at me with an unreadable expression.

“You’re mine now,” he said roughly. “Do you understand what that means?” His viridian eyes burned into mine.

I nodded, holding his gaze.

He pressed tender kisses along my shoulders and the column of my neck, his hands caressing my skin reverently. “My beautiful little bird,” he murmured. “Mine.”

Something about his possessive words made a thrill go through me rather than causing me to bristle at the claim. I did feel like I was his at that moment, that I belonged to this dark, avenging angel, body and soul. I knew I would follow this man into the very depths of Hell if he asked it of me.

We finished showering, our touches lingering and reverent as we washed each other. Theo dried me off with a plush towel, his hands gentle as he patted my skin. He wrapped me in a silky robe before donning one himself, leading me by the hand back into the bedroom.

In the warm glow of the firelight, he pulled me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I sighed contentedly, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. We stood there for a long moment, simply holding each other; no words were needed.

Eventually, he laid me down on the mattress with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intense, almost feral passion from moments ago. Pulling back the covers, he slid in beside me, gathering me into his arms once more. I curled into him, fitting perfectly against his side like I’d always been meant to be there.

His fingers combed through my damp hair soothingly as we laythere, our bodies intertwined. “Sleep now, little bird,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Cocooned in his warmth and the softness of the sheets, I let my eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally claiming me. Just before sleep pulled me under, I felt the brush of his lips against my forehead and heard him whisper, “I would burn the world down before I let anyone take you from me.”

With those words echoing in my mind, I slipped into a dreamless slumber, knowing that, for tonight at least, no nightmares would haunt me.

TWELVE

THEO

Iwatched her sleep.

My little bird.

I hadn’t intended on fucking her tonight. I’d tried to stay away. But watching her dance like a fucking dark angel, her lithe body swaying to the pulsing rhythm, I couldn’t resist. I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, powerless to her siren call.

She’d looked like sin incarnate, hips undulating, black hair wild and untamed. I’d had to possess her, claim her, make her mine. I’d watched her like a shadow in the night. The firelight had danced across her skin. Desire had coiled hot and heavy in my veins. My fingers had itched to touch her silken skin, to tangle in her raven tresses. I’d wanted to taste her, devour her, consume her until she was a part of me.

When I had seen her there alone, my restraint had snapped. She’d come alive under my touch, all fire and passion as I’d buried myself deep inside her, losing myself in her heat. Now, in the dim light of early morning, I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, her dark hair spilled across the pillow. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. But I knew the darkness that lurked beneath her skin, hidden deep in the places she had never let anyone see. There were shadows that haunted her soul, but she thought I didn’t know those shadows called out tomine.

In sleep, she was vulnerable, unguarded. I could see the faint bruises on her skin, souvenirs from our rough coupling. I traced them lightly with my fingertips, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.

She was mine.

Marked by my touch.

I knew I should let her go. Set her free from the dangerous web I’d drawn her into. But I was a selfish bastard, addicted to the way she made me feel.

Alive.

Whole.

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