“I want to feel you inside me,” I whimpered as he shifted, adjusting himself.
He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. “I want to see those pretty eyes of yours when I fuck you. When you come undone.”
I gasped as he nudged my leg to the side, and I sank further onto him. My body trembled, preparing to be filled completely by him.
“I love the way you fucking feel,” he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth, and my body relaxed at his words.
I shrugged out of my T-shirt and bra, chucking them to the floor. Grey admired my body and brought his mouth to myhardened nipple, nipping at the sensitive flesh, before biting down hard enough to elicit a scream. He flicked his thumb over the other, and I bucked at the sensation.
He quickened his pace, and my legs began to shake. “Are you going to come all over my cock?”
“Yes,” I cried out, rolling my hips.
An arm wrapped around my waist, allowing him to thrust harder and faster.
“Look at me,” he ground out, and my eyes snapped to his. Pools of pure darkness stared into my soul as I shuddered around him. His muscles tightened beneath me and then relaxed as he finished.
It wasn’t until the high wore off that I looked down and noticed we were both covered in blood.
“Oh my god.” Dark spots invaded my vision. From the orgasm or the mangled sight of his arm, I couldn’t be sure. “Shit. Shit, Grey.” I attempted to pull away, to find something to stop the bleeding, but his arm pinned me against him.
“Stay,” he murmured against my chest.
I tried again to stand, but the last little bit of adrenaline drained away. Exhaustion clung to my limbs.
“Let me listen to your heartbeat a little longer,” Grey said as I fell against him, letting his own heartbeat lull me to sleep. Our breathing slowly evened out as we lay tangled together, bloody and satisfied.
CHAPTER 30
GREY
We were fucked. And that was putting it mildly.
Hellhounds had our scent, and the way it acted last night was unusual. Like it was guarding something rather than hunting.
I stifled a cry as I pulled a sweatshirt over my head. My left arm hung at my side. Blood still leaked from the open wound, but with the sweatshirt, Lyra wouldn’t be able to see that it hadn’t started healing.
A high-pitched whistle traveled down the hallway. The smell of freshly brewed coffee spilled from the kitchen, meaning Lyra was already up.
“You bought a coffee maker?” she asked, bringing a full mug to her lips.
I’d bought the stupid thing on a whim but hadn’t used it yet.
“Yeah.” I rubbed at the back of my neck and walked toward the machine to make my own cup.
“I didn’t think you liked coffee.” Pure amusement danced in her eyes.
“Can’t start my morning without it.” I set the coffee cup under the machine, not having the slightest idea how it worked.Normally, I’d just pour myself a glass of whiskey, but I guess I could just add it to my cup.
“I can tell.” She pushed off the counter, coming up beside me. She fidgeted with the latch on top, replacing the old coffee pod with a new one. A second later, freshly brewed coffee spilled from the machine.
I reached for the bottle of whiskey, wincing at the burning pain in my arm. Lyra’s eyes dropped to the floor where a pool began to form.
“Why isn’t it healing?” She gasped, reaching for my arm. I yanked it away, instantly regretting the sudden movement.
“It just takes time.” I brushed off her worry, picking up the whiskey bottle and opening it with my teeth. I poured a healthy amount into my steaming cup and then poured another splash to top it off.
“Let me get a better look at it.”
