Page 69 of The Devil's Canvas

"Say my name."

I meet his gaze, heat pooling low, drunk on the way he’s looking at me. "Julian."

And he snaps. He kisses me like he’s drowning—and I’m the only thing that can kill or save him. There’s no hesitation. No air. Just fire and teeth and surrender.

I feel every inch of him, the tension in his muscles, the way he’s barely holding back. Not for his sake. For mine. But I don’t want restraint. Not tonight.

"Don’t hold back," I whisper, tilting my chin, baring my throat to him. An invitation. A dare. A challenge.

Julian growls, the sound vibrating against my skin, his lips trailing down my neck, my collarbone, lower, lower—his tongue flicking against sensitive skin, his teeth teasing, threatening, never quite biting.

I am burning. I am desperate. I am losing my mind.

He shifts, one hand bracing my thigh to spread me wider, and thrusts into me.

One slow, merciless stroke.

He fills me completely, stretching me open, branding himself into my bones.

I cry out, my head falling back, my body arching, my fingers clenching around his arms.

Julian shudders, curses, his grip bruising, his control snapping completely.

"You feel—" He cuts off, his jaw clenching, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath ragged. "Fuck."

I can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything except feel.

And he’s not done.

Julian pulls back—just enough to make me whimper, just enough to make me desperate—and slams back in, harder, deeper, perfect.

The pleasure is instant, blinding, a white-hot spark exploding inside me.

"Julian—" My voice breaks on a moan.

"I know, love." His lips graze mine, his hands pinning me exactly where he wants me. "I feel it too."

His pace builds, every movement deliberate, controlled, hitting exactly where I need, exactly how I need.

Too much. Not enough. Too perfect.

I am unraveling.

He knows it.

"Let go for me," he murmurs, his voice all heat and sin and command.

My body tightens around him, pleasure ripping through me in waves, white-hot and searing.

Julian groans, curses, driving into me faster, chasing his own release, pushing me even higher, not letting me come down.

"Again," he demands. "Give me another."

I do. Because I belong to him.

And now, he belongs to me.

Chapter Thirteen

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