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“Anything you need is my burden. You don’t have to carry it alone. We will get through this.”

I grab his face, placing my mouth to his because words escape me.

“We will get through this.”

His tongue swipes at my bottom lip, and I part my lips for him. Spreading my legs, he settles between them, his mouth working mine with a fervour. He hikes my leg up over his hip and pulls me up to sit on top of him.

“What do you need, Camila?” he breathes out. But he already knows. He just needs me to give him my consent.

But I know in my gut this is wrong. Isn’t it?

My core shouldn’t be heating up at the thought of this.

"I'm damaged, Xander. I'm sorry for putting this all on you."

“You’re not damaged, Camila. You’re healing.”

I sob into our kiss, tears now free-flowing.

“I will do it for you,” he continues in between kisses.

My legs are wrapped around his waist. His length grows beneath me, not helping my predicament. His mouth moves down to my neck.

“You do not have to be ashamed. Do you hear me?”

I moan as he sucks my collarbone, surely leaving a bruise behind. His hands travel to my ass, gripping the muscles there.

“Make me forget what they did,” I pant, my voice a squeak.

He pulls away, one of his hands snaking to the bottom of my neck, holding me still. His eyes soften.

As his pupils blow open, the blue of his iris almost entirely vanishes.

The Devil.

My Devil.

The one that would do anything for me. The one I’ve been denying all this time.

But I don’t want to deny him anymore.

“We need a safe word,” he whispers.

“Green,” I breathe.

His features slacken, as if he just found the answer to life.

“Why?”

“It’s what I was wearing the first time we met.” I smile.

He lifts me off him and climbs off the bed.

“Twenty,” he starts, backing away to the corner of the room.

It takes a second for me to realise what he’s doing.

“Nineteen.”