Page 42 of The Devil's Wrath

So I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair, breathing in her scent—vanilla, jasmine, and the smell of rain.

Intoxicating.

I’d deal with the consequences later. For now, I just wanted to hold her, this fallen angel who had somehow become my obsession, my salvation, my damnation.

This twisted game we were playing could only end in destruction. But I was already burning, consumed by the flames of my desire for her. I knew it was wrong, knew I should walk away before I destroyed her. But I was too far gone, lost in the depths of those dark eyes, drowning in the taste of her skin. She had awakened the beast inside me, dark and primal, creating a hunger that would never be sated.

The sunlight slowly crept across her skin, caressing her curves like a lover’s touch. She stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Those lips, so soft and plush, had whispered filthy promises in the heat of passion, the taste of them lingering on my lips.

Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she looked confused and disoriented. Then recognition dawned, and a slow, sensual smile curved her lips.

“Good morning,” she purred, stretching like a cat in my embrace.

I couldn’t resist the temptation. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all my hunger and all my need into the press of my lips against hers. She responded with equal enthusiasm, her hands tangling in my hair, her body molding to mine.

We moved together, a tangle of limbs and heated flesh, lost in thethroes of passion. I took her hard and fast, driving into her with desperate urgency as if I could somehow brand her soul with my own. She cried out, her nails raking down my back as she shattered beneath me, my name a breathless litany on her lips. I followed her over the edge, emptying myself inside her with a growl.

In the aftermath, we lay tangled together, sweat-slicked bodies pressed close. Her head rested on my chest, her hair tickling my skin. I ran my fingers up and down the smooth expanse of her back, reveling in the feel of her soft curves against me.

“What are you thinking about?” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction.

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. How could I tell her I was thinking about how much I needed her, how the thought of losing her made me feel like I was suffocating? That somewhere along the way, this dark obsession had turned into something more, something deeper and infinitely more terrifying?

“Nothing,” I lied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just enjoying the moment.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, fixing me with a knowing look. “Liar,” she accused, but there was no heat behind the words. “You’re always thinking. It’s what drew me to you in the first place.”

I chuckled darkly. “Is that so? And here I thought it was my irresistible charm and devilish good looks.”

She rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of her perfect mouth. “Please,” she scoffed. “I’ve had better.” But the way her eyes raked over my body belied her words.

I flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. “Is that a challenge?” I growled, nipping at her earlobe.

She gasped, arching into me. “Maybe,” she breathed. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Careful, little bird,” I sucked her earlobe into my mouth. “Keep talking like that, and I might just have to keep you here all day.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. “Promise?”

I silenced her with a bruising kiss, pouring all my dark hunger into the clash of lips and teeth and tongues. She met me, arching into me, straining against my hold on her wrists.

I could lose myself in her, drown in sensation until nothing existed but her taste, her scent, the satin heat of her skin. But reality intruded, shattering the moment like fragile glass.

My phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, dragging me back to the real world with a jarring abruptness. I released her with a muttered curse, reaching for the device.

“Don’t answer it,” she pleaded, her lips swollen from my kisses, eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

“I have to,” I ground out, hating the words even as I said them.

I glanced at the screen. “Father.” Only he would be brazen enough to call me this early and disturb the fragile peace I had found in her arms. I answered with a curt, “What?”

“We have a problem.” His voice was cold, emotionless.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my back to her. I couldn’t let her see my face, couldn’t let her glimpse the darkness I knew was swirling in my eyes.

“What kind of problem?” I kept my voice low and controlled, even as tension coiled in my gut.

“The kind that needs your immediate attention. Meet me at my office.”

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