Page 114 of Damned and Broken Gods
I reached for him, trailing my fingers across the hard expanse of his pectorals, then down his cobbled abdomen. His muscles jumped beneath my touch, and he sucked in a sharp breath. My core contracted in response, a deep clenching blooming lower down in a resonant ache to hold him.
I went lower, to the waistband of his pants, my pulse thrumming in my throat at my boldness, and he watched me, his chest rising and falling in anticipation as I lowered the material, my knuckles grazing his heat and then…Oh…Oh gods.
The corner of his mouth lifted in that cocky smile that I didn’t see often enough, but damn did I love it.
I arched a brow, and he arched one back, as if to say,What now, Leela?
I licked my lips, and he tracked the movement, his eyes darkening. But when I lifted my head, intent on claiming that part of him that made me ache to hold it, he gently gripped my throat and held me back.
“Not like that. Not this night.”
I wanted to ask,Then when?But he covered me with his body, his lips coasting over mine, his breath a promise, and when the kiss landed, it was a homecoming that scattered my thoughts and melted all resolve.
He pinned me like a butterfly, one hand on my throat, the other at my hip, moving low, sliding between, finding my center. And…oh gods.
My soft cry was swallowed, claimed, my gasps worshipped.
I moved against his hand, my hips no longer in my control but in his—the puppet master of my desire. But I didn’t want to shatter like this. I needed him inside me. With me.
I tore my mouth free of his. “Araz…Please…”
He claimed my mouth again. Bruising. Demanding. Then dropped his lips to my throat, to my chest, to my aching breasts.
I arched as he branded me there, drawing a line of flame between my core and my nipples until I was squirming and writhing, moving toward release only for him to pull me back.
I hated him.
I loved him.
I fucking needed him now.
“Araz, fucking hell.”
He brought his lips to my ear. “Tell me how much you want me.”
A sob of frustration tangled in my throat. “I want you. I want you so bad that I’ll die if you don’t fuck me right now.”
“Say it again,” he growled. “Sayfuck.”
“Fuck, fuck…Oh…”
The head of his cock pressed to my entrance, and fresh heat bloomed. He stilled, his body rippling with tension, then lifted his head to lock gazes with me.
“I love you, Leela.”
Everything inside me stilled, like the eye of the storm, like the pause of a great revelation, because although I’d felt his love and seen it in his eyes, this was the first time he’d said it out loud, and it was as if he’d put a key in a lock and twisted.
A low sob broke from my throat as a balloon of joy bloomed in my chest, one that even the shadows ofwhat’s to comecouldn’t pierce.
He cupped my jaw. Gentle. Firm. “Look at me when we join. Don’t close your eyes. I want to see myself in you when we become one.”
He entered me slowly, inch by inch, stretching me until I was gasping and clutching at his shoulder because he was too much. Too fucking much. And yet my body adjusted, as if he belonged. As if it knew how to claim him. My hips wanted to move, but he held me firm, his mouth parted above mine, our breath mingling as we acclimatized.
A low whimper fell from my lips, and he met it with a groan, and when he was finally seated, he relaxed his grip on me, permission for me to move. For us to join fully, thrust for thrust, him meeting every rise with a snap of his hips that tore guttural cries from my throat.
He held me as I unraveled. As I bloomed, hot and slick, just for him. My eyelids fluttered, the sensation too much, and he squeezed, a warning to stay. To be present. And I obeyed. I looked into his eyes. Into the flames as he unmade me and reforged me. Until the flame inside me roared. Consuming, cleansing, and changing me forever.
Our cries united, and our mouths met, hot and fevered, our bodies still moving through the climax. Into it. Past it. Into something sacred that I didn’t understand but needed. Vital. Essential.
