Page 75

“You are going to break your curse.”

“I am going to break my curse,” she repeated, pitch rising. And then again, higher still, “I am going to break my curse!”

Devra practically fell into him, needing to kiss the lips of the man who had knocked open this door for her, undeterred by her sharpest edges. Who had shown her a taste of control. Who had given her hope. She gripped him tightly. This man. This perfect man. He had never given up on her.

Their mouths met, tongues swirling, the kiss growing ravenous as she sought to taste more of him. All of him. She murmured against his lips, over and over, “We did it. We did it,” the idea growing wild inside her, igniting every inch of her. Soon she was clawing at his shirt, eager to free the wall of solid muscle beneath, to run her fingers over intoxicatingly hard ridges, to press bare skin against bare skin. Her hands worked frantically, tugging at buttons, ripping at hems, until a pile of clothes lay at their feet.

Bradley worked quickly as well, kissing the tender point where ear met neck, nipping at her jaw, his fingers finding that perfect spot between her legs, circling gently until they slid right in. His other hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a searing kiss. She felt the promise in his touch. The commitment.

He rubbed his erection against her thigh, rigid and wanting, and unleashed a stifled moan. Devra leaned into the movement, into the solidness of him. Any remaining tensions gave way to bliss, and she came, right there, standing in the middle of the room, one of her legs coiled around his backside. A dozen waves crashed over her, and she felt his warmth spill onto her thigh, heard his groan of satisfaction in time with hers. And this awareness—of the pleasure he took from the pleasure he gave—kept her arousal from dipping but for the briefest second before it was climbing again, rising higher.

She grabbed his hand and led him up to her bedroom, not wanting this moment to end.

Guiding Bradley onto her bed, she fell with him, their bodies never parting. They rolled on the mattress, naked and pressed together like they would never let go. They kissed and writhed for minutes. For hours. Who could tell? Their mouths never separating, their hearts beating in the same shared space. She straddled him and began to rock back and forth. Her hands explored his body, memorizing each bend and ridge, teasing, testing, admiring, until Bradley took control. He rolled her onto her back and pressed her into the mattress, heat and sweat building between them, until he was rock hard against her. She was so aware of it. The firmness. The smoothness. The way it sent shockwaves through her simply by brushing against her swollen core. She grew desperate to know how it would feel driving into her, pulsing within her.

“Bradley,” she moaned. “I…” She wanted him. All of him. “I have an IUD,” she whispered. “And I—I haven’t been with anyone else since my last test.”

“Same,” he replied, lazily nipping her ear, until he stilled, as if the implication had only just hit him. He pushed up onto his hands, looking down at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

There was no doubt on her end. How could there be? What with the way her heart thumped loudly whenever he entered the room.

“Devra…”

She heard his hesitation but felt the tip of his cock slide closer to her entrance.

She palmed his cheeks and met his eyes, which glowed like fiery ice, a contradiction of terms that made perfect sense to her.

“Yes, Bradley. Please.”

A pause, his eyes intent on hers. Then he slid into her with a groan of relief. She gasped at the sensation, at how thick he was, how he filled her completely, stretched her wide and satisfied an ache that had been building and building so it almost hurt. And now he was here. Inside of her. Pounding deep. Growing more reckless. An animal unleashed. He thrust and thrust again. She gasped every time, feeling him reach places that hadn’t been touched before, places wide awake now and throbbing with the ecstasy that was him immersed in her.

“Devra,” he groaned. And she loved the sound of her name being wrenched from his mouth. “You feel too good. I can’t…I can’t…”

He was dangling at the precipice of climax; she felt it in his voice, the quickness of his pace, the tension in his muscles. She also felt him hold on, step back, reset himself. Felt his determination. His sheer strength of will. And she knew he would wait for her, would always wait for her, whatever it took.

This was the thought that pushed her over the brink, into rapture. The bedroom lights flickered in time with his thrusts, power surging wildly both inside and out. Or maybe those were just the starbursts behind her eyes as her orgasm started deep, shuddering through her inner walls outward to every single muscle until the sensation was in her toes and tingling her scalp, and she forgot how to breathe, forgot what air was.

Her mind blanked after a dreamlike thought that she had everything she’d ever wanted. And nothing bad would ever happen again.

BRADLEY

“Devra?”

The whole room had gone dark after what felt like an explosion of fireworks as they’d both come undone. His vision adjusted, and he saw Devra lying there, sprawled naked and ethereal in the moonlight with her eyes closed. He heard the rumble of a storm growing angrier outside and couldn’t care less.

He flopped back on the bed, his body exhausted in the best possible way, spent twice in the span of two hours like he was a much younger man, with the universe giving him a chance to relive those years he’d wasted chugging booze and popping tabs and struggling to get it up.

As Devra snored softly beside him, he wondered initially whether it was good or bad that he had, apparently, fucked her into unconsciousness. But when she woke hours later and rolled on top of him, he figured it must have been a very good thing.

She began to gently slide back and forth, and his cock stiffened. He couldn’t believe how easy this was. How good she felt. He slipped inside her and bucked upward, holding her by the hips. He pushed himself deeper, and deeper, seeking more. It wasn’t enough to just be inside her anymore. He needed to be all the way inside her, touching every last inch. This was more than sex. This was love. He could feel it, during the long minutes he spent holding himself back from the brink with every ounce of willpower he had, discovering new ways to make her moan and scream and cry out his name. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. How she’d murmur it over and over, her only thought of him, her mind and body fully his. He was wild for that sound, had a ravenous, insatiable need for it. Like he’d do anything to hear it again. He would make his way inside her again and again and again if she’d let him, until they were both incapable of moving.

And that was exactly what they did, rolling onto each other again in the morning, alternating top and bottom, trading seductive licks and caresses, until the sheets were a tangled mess around them.

Even when he went soft, he still throbbed for her in his chest, in the lowest part of his gut. He still spent those hours touching her, exploring her, pleasing her. He licked her pussy for an hour that afternoon. Lapping up the delicacy that was her inner thighs, her swollen clit. And when his body found the strength to rise again, she encouraged him inside, asking him to touch her, to satisfy her, again and again, to pulse inside her wounded and wanting body. And he obliged. Over and over. Listening carefully to her cries. Always listening. Wanting to give her nothing but pleasure. Albeit a strange fusion of pleasure and pain as their bodies became sore and yet longed for more.

It was madness, really. Twenty-four hours coming and going without food, without rising from her bed. He rubbed her back, soothing her sore muscles, letting his hands circle lower, over the soft mounds of her ass, and lower still, until he was rubbing her sex with the side of his palm, watching her backside rise and fall with each stroke, until she was ready for more, his thickness sliding into her, her body a warm embrace.