Page 85 of Soulmarked

The moonlight through the bedroom window painted his skin in silver and shadow as he joined me on the bed. His weight settled over me, warm and solid and real.

He lowered himself back to me, skin against skin now, the warmth of him sending electricity across every point of contact. His gentleness contradicted the strength I knew his hands possessed.

“Fuck, Sean,” I gasped, arching into him, the pressure in my gut coiling tighter.

He hummed around me, sending vibrations up my spine, his dark eyes flicking up to meet mine, wicked amusement sparking in them. He enjoyed this—watching me fall apart, knowing he had me like this. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding me steady as he worked me over, slow and thorough, until my breath turned ragged and my grip on his hair tightened in warning.

He pulled off with a soft, satisfied sound, pressing one last kiss to the head of my cock before sliding up my body. His mouthfound mine, and I could taste myself on his lips, something raw and possessive tightening in my chest at the thought.

“You're fucking lethal,” I muttered against his mouth.

His grin was sharp, teasing.

“Christ, Cade...”

The way he said my name sent a shudder through me, like he was touching something deeper than skin. Like he saw me—all of me—and wanted me anyway.

His mouth found mine again, and we moved together in a tangle of limbs and heat. My world narrowed to the feel of him, the taste of him, the way he gasped when I slid my hands down his back, nails biting into muscle. He pressed me into the mattress, and I arched against him, lost in the feeling of his weight, his warmth, the way he fit against me like he belonged there.

There was no hesitation when his hand slid between us, fingers wrapping around me, stroking slow and deliberate, like he wanted to unravel me piece by piece. My breath hitched, and I buried my face against his shoulder, my body already burning with need.

“Sean—” I choked out, barely recognizing my own voice.

He didn’t answer, just kissed me again, slower this time, like he had all the time in the world. His free hand trailed lower, over my thigh, then between, fingers teasing, coaxing, spreading me open for him.

“Got you,” he murmured against my lips, and fuck, I believed him.

He reached for the lube—he must’ve had it nearby, the sneaky bastard—and slicked his fingers before pressing one inside me, slow and careful. I gasped at the intrusion, my fingers tightening on his arms, but he was patient, watching my face, waiting for any sign of discomfort.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice low, coaxing. “Let me in.”

I did. I let him in, let the sensation roll through me, let him take his time opening me up. By the time he worked in a second finger, I was shaking, my body already begging for more. He curled them just right, brushing against that spot that sent sparks up my spine, and I swore loudly, hips bucking into his touch.

Sean chuckled, the sound rough with want. “There he is.”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

His breath caught, and something in his expression went molten. He pulled his fingers free, slicked himself up, and lined up, pressing the head of his cock against me, waiting. Just waiting.

I met his gaze, saw the flicker of something vulnerable beneath the hunger, and it made my chest ache. I lifted a hand to his face, thumb brushing over the scar on his cheek.

“Together,” I whispered.

Sean exhaled, then pushed in, slow and steady, sinking into me inch by inch until he was seated fully inside me. The stretch was intense, burning for a second before it melted into something deeper, something that made my whole body hum with pleasure.

“Jesus—” Sean bit out, his hands gripping my hips like he was afraid to move, afraid to break me. But I wasn’t made of glass. I was stronger than I’d ever been. Strong enough to take him, to hold onto this, to choose this.

I rolled my hips experimentally, and Sean cursed, his grip tightening.

“Fuck, Cade?—”

“Move.”

He did. He pulled out just enough to thrust back in, finding a rhythm that had me gripping the sheets, gasping his name. Every snap of his hips sent fire licking through me, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until I was barely holding on.

Sean pressed his forehead to mine, his breath ragged, his hands shaking where they held me.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

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