Page 121 of The Road to Hell

Before she could collect her senses, I gripped my shaft and guided myself toward her. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes when I slid inside her in one smooth thrust. Her body was more than ready for me.

Lily’s eyes flew open, and she stared at me, her face flushed with need.

“Rath…” she murmured.

I gave her—and me—a moment to acclimate, then braced my weight above her and started to move. Lily reached above her head and flattened her palms against the stone wall, holding herself in place, preparing for what she knew was to come.

Our lovemaking had never been slow. Or gentle. And though I’d begun that way, it wouldn’t remain so. It never did.

I moved within her, savoring the way her body welcomed me. The way she clenched around me, pulling me deeper. The way her breath hitched and her nails raked down my back, leaving burning trails in their wake. She arched against me, her head falling back, her throat bared in a way that sent a primal surge of possession roaring through my veins.

The pace between us shifted, grew desperate. We met each other stroke for stroke, matching each other in need, in hunger, in sheer desperation to reclaim everything we’d lost. The ruins around us faded into nothing. There was no war, no rebellion, no battle waiting beyond this moment. There was only her, only me, only this.

“Lily,” I murmured against her skin, pressing my lips to the hollow of her throat. My name spilled from her lips in response, a broken, reverent whisper that shattered what remained of my restraint.

I moved faster, driven by the way she clung to me, the way she gasped and moaned, the way sheneededme just as much as I needed her.

“Rath…bite me,” she whispered with a teasing smile.

Were this any other time, I might have laughed. Instead, heat rushed through me. I stilled above her, my breath ragged, my body taut with restraint.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

She nodded eagerly. Her fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me down, a silent plea I couldn’t deny.

A low growl rumbled in my chest as I dipped my head to the curve of her neck, where her pulse hammered just beneath the skin. I resumed thrusting, listening to the catch of her breath, then pressed my lips to the hollow of her throat, my breath hot against her skin. Her scent flooded my senses, intoxicating in a way nothing else had ever been. My tongue traced the delicate line of her pulse, savoring the anticipation, the shudder that ran through her as I lingered there.

Then I sank my fangs into her.

She gasped, her body tensing beneath mine, but it wasn’t pain that tightened her grip on me. It was pure, raw pleasure—for us both. I groaned against her the instant her blood hit my tongue, rich and electric, sending a jolt of rawpowerthrough my veins.

Her breathing quickly turned ragged, gasping, a sound that nearly sent me spilling over the edge. I forced myself to be careful, to drink only what I could take without harming her. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. The sheer bliss of it, the bond snapping taut between us, the way her body shuddered against mine—it was almost too much.

But I would never hurt her. Not again.

I laved my tongue over the two puncture wounds in her throat, then lifted my head, meeting her gaze. Lily’s chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths. She swallowed, and for a moment, I thought she might speak—but then she surged up, fisting a hand in my hair, and kissed me.

I resumed my pace, enjoying the feel of her mouth faltering against mine as she cried out, the way she gasped and moaned, the way sheneededme just as much as I needed her.

And when she reached that peak—when her whole body tensed beneath me, trembling, shaking, her mouth parting on a silent cry—I followed her.

The moment stretched, suspended between us, as the last of the tension unraveled and left us breathless, bodies tangled together on the cold stone. I rested my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling, our heartbeats still racing in the same frantic rhythm.

Neither of us spoke. There was nothing that needed to be said.

Instead, she lifted a shaky hand and brushed her fingers over my jaw, tracing the scar Lucifer had given me. I turned into her touch, pressing a kiss to her palm before capturing her hand in mine.

She quietly laughed. “How can youmisssomething without knowing you miss something?” she asked.

I chuckled, then stole another kiss before whispering against her mouth, “I love you.”

Lily’s fingers curled around mine, and a slow smile touched her lips. “I love you too.”

I responded with my own contented smile. Because no matter what came next—the war, the rebellion, her father—we had each other. And that was all we needed.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

LILY

---