Page 67 of The Madness Within

He leaned down beside my ear, voice a Devil’s whisper. “I don’t want to break you, Ember. I want toownevery piece you’re too afraid to give away.”

My breath hitched.

He moved in front of me, crouched, his hands braced on my thighs. His gaze pinned me to the spot. “You think this is a game. That I’m keeping you in a gilded cage. But everything I’ve done, the ward, the gifts, the space, I did to make you feel safe.”

I laughed, dry and bitter. “Safe? You fucked me against a tree right after I almost died.”

“You came twice,” he said calmly. “And begged me not to stop.”

My cheeks flushed. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re wet right now,” he said, slipping a hand between my legs and pressing against the heat of my sex through the thin robe. “A week, Ember. We’ve done this for a week, and you still pretend you don’t want it.”

I gasped as he dragged his fingers along the seam, slow and firm, his eyes never leaving mine. “Say what you want,” he murmured, “but your body keeps confessing every damn night.”

“Because you make me,” I snapped, breath hitching as he pushed the robe aside.

“No,” he growled, spreading my legs wide and dropping to his knees between them. “You makeme.”

And then he buried his face between my thighs.

I cried out as his mouth covered me, tongue licking and sucking with obscene precision. My hips jerked, hands clutching the armrests to anchor myself as he devoured me like a curse he was determined to worship. He groaned into my pussy like he’s starving, and fuck, maybe he was.

His tongue swirled around my clit, then plunged inside me, fast and deep. My back arched, a helpless moan tearing from my throat.

“Dorian, fuck!” I tried to twist away from the pleasure, but his arms locked around my thighs.

“I’m not stopping,” he panted, tongue flicking hard and fast now. “Not until you come on my face.”

My fingers tangled in his hair, and when the orgasm hit, it crashed through me like lightning. I screamed, legs trembling, and he didn't stop, not until I was twitching, begging, and soaked with sweat.

He rose like a beast from the depths, lips wet with me, eyes black with hunger. “Now,” he said, unbuckling his belt, “get on the floor. Hands and knees.”

I hesitated.

His voice softened. “Please.”

That one word.

It undid me.

I slipped from the chair and knelt, silk pooling around me. He pressed behind me, cock sliding along my folds. The moment he thrust in, I nearly collapsed forward. He filled me to the hilt, deep and unrelenting, each stroke brutal and perfect.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me back against him, his lips brushing my ear.

“You feel like heaven,” he growled. “I’d ruin a hundred lives just to keep this. Keepyou.”

I moaned his name as he pounded into me, his hand finding my clit and rubbing hard circles until I broke again, shattered and sobbing his name.

He followed with a deep, guttural groan, coming inside me with a force that felt like ownership and devotion tangled into one breathless moment.

We collapsed together, tangled on the rug, both of us drenched in sweat, and sin, and everything we couldn’t say.

And then, softly, as he traced a lazy circle on my spine, he whispered, “If you leave again, I won’t stop you.”

I turned my head, stunned.

“But I’ll follow,” he said, eyes locked to mine. “Every time. To the ends of the world. I’ll always follow.”

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