His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, his breath a hot, seductive promise against my flesh. “I can be your boyfriend, and I can be your worst nightmare, Gemma Crowne.”
I gasped. “Promise?”
Boyfriend.
I had a split second to feel that deep in my marrow, Grimfinallystaking some kind of claim, when he spun me around, pressed me flat against the wall,his chest on my back.
He kept my arms pinned above my head.
Then he slid his tongue up across the fresh tattoo on my neck, starting at the top notch of my spine, ending at the base of my skull. Goose bumps peppered my flesh. Even his gentle lips felt like a scrape. The act was primal, raw.
His soft kiss transformed to teeth scraping along my neck.
Abite.
It was so fucking painful against my freshly wounded skin—and so fucking addicting. I saw stars. The world blurred, and I became a puddle of hot liquid. A mindless, drugged pleasure that felt like stardust in my veins. I gasped, or maybe moaned. I squirmed against him, and his free hand slid to my abdomen, pressing me against his cock, holding me in place.
“Please,” I gasped, not totally sure what I was asking for.
The hand at my stomach slid lower, between my thighs, where the skin was bare from my shorts. He pinned me like that, the heat of his hand searing my flesh.
He alternated between biting and licking and kissing, teeth and tongue and justtoomuch. He whispered Spanish against my neck. Words that I think meantperfectandbeautiful,words that Ifeltmore than heard.
I couldn’t think through it. Through the mix of pain and pleasure. I was all sensation. I squirmed into his hand. He was going to do it. He was going to finally fuck me?—
He froze, groaning against my neck, the vibration sending illicit shivers up and down my spine. It sounded rough and ragged, ripped from him.
“Not yet,mi locura.” The grip between my thighs tightened, his lips hot and wet on my neck. “Did you realize by making me go into your world, you’d have to come into mine?”
If I wasn’t so strung out on him, I would have laughed.
Instead, my voice came out breathy, low. “I’vebeenin your world.”
With his hand still between my thighs, he released my wrists and knotted his fist in my hair, stretching my neck backward until our eyes met. The sinewy muscles in his jaw twitched, flexing with an inscrutable emotion.
“You’ve never known what it means to be the Reaper’s girl.”
Then he kissed me. Still pinned against him, arching in a way that would have been uncomfortable if my body wasn’t already on fire.
His lips were demanding, cruel,intoxicating.
I gasped and his tongue slid into my mouth. I gripped his wrists, nails digging into the flesh, needing something to keep me steady. He dragged my bottom lip out with a bite.
The kiss was a claim.
A promise.
He didn’t stop until I was squirming on his hand, until I was certain he could feel me dripping down my thigh.
Then he released his grip in my hair. My head fell forward to the wall, heavy. I took in deep, ragged breaths. Everything was blurry. My heart slammed against my chest.
He spun me around so we were face-to-face.
My breath disappeared down my throat. Grim was always a bit too much like some fallen angel, some god hell-bent on revenge. But now there was a reverence in his eyes that made my throat thick.
Like the angel had fallenbecauseof me.
He was unashamedly hard. His eyes on fire. His hair wavy and messy like a villainous movie star. His nostrils sharpened. The shadows made him grow larger and untamed.
