Page 60 of Betrayed
She hesitates. “Lucian—I’m a mess…”
“You’re my delicious mess. Now keep those pretty fingers tangled in my hair. And don’t stop saying my name.”
My tongue draws out her first cry. “Lucian!” and I devour her, pulling her to the edge of the dresser, spreading her open and tasting every part. She’s already dripping, slick and desperate.
For me.
Only me.
Her fingers tighten around my hair, and her thighs are trembling. “Please—Lucian—please don’t stop.”
I don’t.
Not until she’s gasping my name like I’m the only thing left in her world.
Then I rise, ripping off my sweater and hooking my arm around her waist. I haul her off the table and shove her against the nearest wall.
“I love you,” I say, voice raw.
Her eyes go wide.
I press my forehead to hers. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
Then I sink into her in one brutal thrust.
She screams.
I don’t stop.
I fuck her like if I bury myself inside her, it’ll keep her safe. Like if I hold her tight enough, she’ll never slip through my fingers again. But the girl has a mind of her own. And that’s one of the million things that has me obsessed with her.
Her nails rake my back. Like always. Her mouth finds mine.
“I’m not letting you go,” I promise between kisses. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
She comes with a cry into my mouth, her body trembling around me.
I follow with a groan, burying myself deep, claiming every inch.
And when it’s over, I don’t pull away.
I carry her to bed.
Her fingers trail over my bare chest, stroking the scars from the fire at the Manhattan warehouse, a lifetime ago. As she touches them, they come alive like I’m burning in a way that hits my core.
She looks up at me, trusting, protected in my arms. “What did you say your friend’s name was? The one who told you not to go back in, that it was a trap?”
“You mean the one I should have listened to, or I wouldn’t have these scars today?”
“I like them. They make you…you.”
I hold her closer.
And I don’t let go.
Not even fucking caring that I confessed my love.
Or that she didn’t say it back.
