Page 87 of The Devil's Canvas

“Now it’s my turn to play,” she says, her voice honeyed and wicked, tinged with that gleam in her eye that means trouble. The kind that ruins a man gladly.

I start to reach for her, already half-gone, but she swats my hand away with a smirk. “Ah-ah. You had your moment. Let me have mine.”

She leans in, her lips barely brushing mine, her body hovering just enough to keep me aching.

“Lie back, demon,” she murmurs against my mouth. “And let me show you what being newly immortal feels like.”

I do as she says. No hesitation. No fight. Just the thrum of the bond pulsing under my skin as I lower myself into the sheets and let her climb over me—confident, commanding, goddamn glorious.

Her fingers trail down the line of my stomach, slow, deliberate, nails scraping just enough to make my jaw tighten. I’m already hard and aching, but she doesn’t touch me. Not yet.

Instead, she shifts lower, kissing my lower abdomen, her breath ghosting over the place I need her most. My hips jerk, helpless. She smiles against my skin like she’s in control and she knows it.

“Still pretending you’re patient?” she purrs.

I try to laugh, but it catches in my throat when she drags her tongue from the base of my cock up the shaft in one slow, wet stroke. My entire body goes tight.

“Fuck, Ophelia.”

She hums in approval and wraps her lips around the tip, sucking lightly before taking me deeper—slow and controlled. Her hand wraps around the base, stroking in time with the way her tongue flicks and swirls. I brace one hand against the headboard, the other still fisted in the sheets, knuckles white.

She’s not rushing. She’s not teasing anymore either. She’s working me. Studying every twitch, every gasp, every curse that slips past my lips as she drags her mouth up and down my cock like she was made for it.

She lets go with a wet sound that leaves me wrecked. My chest heaves. I look down at her and I know I’m gone.

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb and licks it clean without breaking eye contact.

“You gonna cum already?” she teases. “Or do I get to play a little longer?”

I want to flip her beneath me. I want to wreck her. But I don't. I won't. Not yet.

“You take what you want,” I growl. “Just know when I get my turn, I’m not holding back.”

Her smile could tear kingdoms down. She straddles me again, slick and ready, but she doesn’t sink onto me just yet. She rolls her hips, guiding me through her slick folds—torturous, unhurried, like she’s savoring the anticipation. My hands hover at her hips, desperate to touch her, to guide her, but still I don’t move.

She leans down, lips brushing mine, her voice a whisper laced in heat.

“Don’t break yet, demon,” she says. “We’re just getting started.”

Her eyes stay locked on mine as she shifts her hips just enough to position me at her entrance. The heat of her folds wraps around the tip of my cock and I suck in a breath through my teeth—every muscle in my body tightening like a held breath.

And she sinks down.

Fuck.

The sound that rips out of me is raw—half groan, half growl. She takes me inch by inch, slow and steady, her eyes fluttering shut, lips parted as her breath catches. She’s tight, warm, slick—like she was made for this. For me.

She braces her hands against my chest, grounding herself as she seats me fully inside her, her thighs trembling slightly from the stretch, from the feeling of being filled. I can feel the pulse of the bond between us now—demanding, molten, alive—like the Claim itself is watching, waiting to burn through us all over again.

“Gods,” I rasp, barely holding it together. “You feel…”

“I know,” she breathes, hips rolling once, slow and deep. “I feel it too.”

Her rhythm starts slow, torturous, deliberate—rocking her hips in long, fluid movements that have me gritting my teeth and clinging to the last of my control. Her hands slide up my chest to my shoulders, her nails biting in just enough to keep me tethered, and she starts riding me with real purpose now—each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, chasing something that we both know is coming.

She falls apart above me again, body arching, voice cracked open on a gasp that sounds like my name.

And I need more.

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