Page 87 of Bad Girl Dilemma

Sheknowswhat’s next.

And so do I.

But I don’t rush.

I drop to my knees behind her, between her splayed legs. I press my mouth to the skin just above the plug keeping her openfor me—claiming her again, reminding her she’s still mine. Then lower.

I kiss the inside of her thighs, nipping, teasing, tasting the sweat and surrender there until she’ssobbing, gasping out half-formed pleas.

Then I lick her.

Soft and slow at first. Then deeper. Thencrueler.

I edge her once, twice, a third time—until her body is thrumming, her voice wrecked and hoarse. Her safe word dances behind her teeth, but she never says it.

Because shetrustsme.

Because shewantsthis.

Because she knows I’ll never take her further than she can go—but I’ll damn well take her to the edge.

When I finally rise, I drag my cock over her slick folds, teasing her entrance, rubbing metal against skin, feeling her tremble. The way she arches. The way she gasps. Begs.

I push inside her ass.Slow.

Deep.

Possessive.

Heaven.

My cock sinks into her inch by inch, and I swear—God help me—I feel it in my soul. She’s tight and wet and clutching at me like she needs this as badly as I do. Like she’s taking me ineverywhere—mind, body, fucking soul.

She throws her head back, dark blue eyes glassy with need.

“Say it,” I growl, one hand curving gently around her throat—take her breath just enough to make her feel it. “Say you’re mine.”

Her whole body clenches as she cries out, “I’m yours.Always.”

It flays me.

The sound of her. The feel of her. The way her body opens for me, bare and fearless andmine.

I thrust harder, deeper, unable to hold back the growl that rips from my chest. My control frays with every stroke. I feel her clench around me, hear her whimper and gasp, her pleasure building again like a wave.

I press my forehead to hers, our breaths tangled and labored. My thrusts slow—not out of mercy, but awe. Reverence.

“And I’m yours,” I whisper, barely able to speak. “God help me, Specter. I’vealwaysbeen yours.”

Dahlia

When I come,it’s with his name torn from my throat like truth.

My body convulses around him, every nerve lit like the last star in a dying sky. His cock throbs inside me, buried so deep I don’t know where he ends and I begin. And for a long, suspended moment, he doesn’t move.

He just holds me.

Like I’m the only thing in this fucked-up world he can’t rebuild if it got damaged.

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