Page 60 of First Verse

How can I protect her from me when I can’t even protect myself?

“Wilder?” She rubs her face sleepily and sits up. The comforter slips down her torso, giving me a glimpse of her breasts outlined by a silky camisole before she shivers and yanks it back over her shoulders. “Are you okay? I was worried. You weren’t answering your phone.”

She’s too sleepy to be as annoyed as she should be. Her gray eye shines silver in the light from the bathroom, her darker one shadowed. That single, otherworldly gaze spears me like nothing else can. I’m a naked, quivering fool beneath it.

I’ll never be worthy of her. She’s a goddess of truth and goodness, and I’m a formless, slithering shadow.

Find the light inside you.

How am I supposed to find my light when all I see is hers?

I have no idea what expression I wear, but when Evangeline reaches a hand toward me, the ache in my chest increases a hundredfold. The pressure of regret and longing and fear presses down so fast and hard I gasp.

Then she says, “Come to bed,” and desire ignites like a flash fire inside me. My fingers curl with the impulse to take, consume,feed. Warp her and mark her. Brand her with my body so deeply she’ll never want another. Only me. Only us.

“Are you sure?” My voice is a dangerous rasp, the crackling death of my good intentions. Her eyes flare, pupils expanding, chest lifting on a swift inhale.

“Yes.” Her consent is both a demand and a plea.

My feet carry me across the room. I shed my clothes as I go, already hard for her, leaking in anticipation. She lifts the covers and I slip beneath, my hands finding purchase on soft skin. I yank her against me. She’s music and light and warmth. Infinite sunrises in my black world.

I press my face to her neck and breathe. Just breathe.

Her fingers weave into my hair, short nails grazing gently over my scalp, sending tingles down my spine. She’s soothing me even though my grip is punishing enough to leave bruises, a thought that makes me even harder—makes me hate myself even more.

I’m afraid to move my hands. Afraid of not being able to stop myself from hurting her.Using her.I’d rather die.

I’ve never felt this out of control.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. Like she can hear my thoughts. Like sheknowsme.

A full-body tremor rattles my bones and tightens my skin. I open my mouth against her neck, the tip of my tongue finding her racing pulse. A new urge rises and eclipses all others.

I want to taste her pulse and swallow it.

Swallowher.

Evangeline squeaks as I suddenly lift her, rolling onto my back and dropping her knees to either side of my head. My hold keeps her upright as I press my nose to the soaked cotton between her legs, then gently bite the swollen folds beneath.

She gasps. “Oh God.”

I bite harder, making her jerk. Her head drops forward, our gazes clashing. “That’s not my name.”

Her pupils blow out, black swallowing gray and green. She licks her lips. “Wilder.” So soft, barely audible, then louder and ragged with need. “Wilder.”

“That’s my girl.”

Releasing one of her thighs, I drag her camisole up and grunt at the sight of her breasts rising and falling as she pants. Pebbled nipples framed by spun-gold hair. Gorgeous, heart-shaped face and half-lidded eyes hazy with lust.

Mine.

Flattening my tongue, I lick the fabric between me and what I crave. She whimpers and rocks forward in search of friction, but I don’t give her what she wants. The next sound she makes is an angry one, causing my dick to jerk and my lips to curve.

“You want to suffocate me with this perfect cunt so badly, don’t you?”

Her lips part on a silent gasp. My tongue finds her clit, flicking it through the cotton. This time her gasp has tone, a pure note of desperation. Her body pulses against my hold, thighs flexing beneath my hands.

“I need to hear it, baby,” I murmur into her heat, my eyes never leaving hers. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. I’ll never say no.”

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