Chapter 26 Bones
BONES
Christ.
I kiss her hard, pouring everything into it like maybe I can fuse the broken places between my ribs and hers if I just hold on tight enough.
I press her down into the mattress, the weight of me pinning her to earth, and I swear I hear her heartbeat thumping through skin and bone, wild as a moth in a jar.
Her mouth is fire—she bites my lower lip, hard, and I don’t even realize I’ve got her wrists above her head until she moans into my mouth.
The right thing here would be to stop. Or at least to be careful, take it slow. But we both know that’s not going to fucking happen. We both need this. We need to fuck away all the darkness as if it’ll somehow cleanse this night from our souls.
I hook my hand under her thigh, lift her good leg up around my hip and rock against her, the heat of her bleeding right through all the fabric in the way.
She’s groping my back, nails scraping tracks that sting and make the blood race louder in my ears.
I can’t get enough of her, can’t get close enough, can’t keep myself from wanting to swallow her whole.
“I need you,” she pants, desperate and shaking. “Need you to ruin me.”
I grip the backs of her knees, open her up, and shove her shirt to her armpits.
Her tits are perfect, rose nipples hard already.
I suck one into my mouth, teeth scraping just enough to make her gasp, then run my tongue across the bite so she feels it everywhere.
My dick is aching, and I grind against her, the friction almost too much through my boxers.
I want to take it slow, savor her, but the way she claws at me is begging for now, now, now.
She’s not some fragile porcelain, not the girl I had to carry through the woods. She’s feral, wild, a bare animal need that matches my own. She yanks my hair, pulls my face up, swallows my moan with a kiss and bites my lip until I taste metal. I rut against her, can’t stop, can’t think.
Her hand slips inside my waistband and grabs me, and I nearly blow right then, just from the feel of those long, elegant fingers and the heat in her hungry little noises and the sweat-slick heat of her skin.
She rolls her hips up, hungry, unashamed.
Even now, with her ankle all fucked and her body hurting everywhere, she’s the only person I’ve ever known who can make need look like power, like the only danger in this bed is me not keeping up with her.
I breathe against her neck, lips grazing, and she shudders, clutching me in a vice-like grip. “God, Bones,” she whispers, and there’s nothing in my head but the frantic throb of her pulse and the ache in my cock, hard enough to fucking hurt.
I jerk her shorts down and she kicks them away with her good foot. My boxers follow. I pause a second to look at her, and it’s almost too much.
Emma Armstrong, spread out beneath me, flushed and wanting, naked except for my T-shirt bunched above her tits, her pale skin marked from my teeth.
Her dark hair spilled across the pillows like a goddamn painting, and when she looks at me with those eyes—hungry, desperate, alive—I almost forget the night I just had.
Almost forget the feeling of a knife sliding between ribs, the way a body drops, the sound a man makes when he realizes he’s not getting out alive.
“What?” she asks, her voice raspy.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “Just looking at the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
She reaches for me, pulls me down until I’m hovering over her, my weight on my forearms. “Stop looking and start fucking,” she says, and it’s not a request.
I grab her injured leg and hook it over my shoulder, the position opening her completely while keeping the ankle out of the way. She’s so wet I can feel it against my thigh, and when I line myself up, she tries to pull me in with her good leg wrapped around my hip.
“Bones—”
I slam into her in one brutal thrust.
Her scream is exactly what I needed—raw, shocked, real. I don’t give her time to adjust. Can’t. There’s still blood on my hands, metaphorically speaking, and the only way to wash it off is to bury myself so deep inside her that I forget what I did tonight.
“Fuck,” I growl against her throat. “You feel like fucking salvation.”
She arches beneath me, fingers digging into my biceps. “Move,” she demands, voice thick with need.
I pull back and thrust in hard, making her gasp. The angle with her leg over my shoulder is deep, and I can feel her tightening around me already. I set a punishing pace, each thrust pushing her up the bed until I grip her hips to hold her in place.
“This is what you wanted,” I growl against her ear, fingers digging hard enough to bruise. “You wanted me to fuck you hard. Like I’m still half-feral from what I did tonight.”
Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, a flush creeping down her throat. “Yes,” she gasps. “Give me all of it. The dark parts too.”
Something snaps in my chest—permission I didn’t know I needed. I grip her hips, hear the satisfying cry of pain, and let the leash slip.
I shift my angle, driving deeper, and her back arches off the bed as she cries out. The wet sounds of our bodies joining fill the room, mixing with her whimpers and my grunts. She’s so fucking tight, so perfect around me, and I don’t know how long I can hold on.
“Touch yourself,” I command, watching her face. “Show me how you like it.”
Emma slides her hand between us, fingers circling her clit as I thrust into her. It’s one of my favorite sights in the world—her touching herself while I’m buried inside her, and I let out a long, satisfied moan as pressure builds at the base of my spine.
“Bones,” she whimpers, my name a plea on her lips that sends a bolt of raw need straight through me. I watch her fingers move faster, her body clenching around mine with every thrust, and it’s like she’s pulling me under, drowning me in the heat of her.
“Pitch it,” I growl, and she does, gasping as I watch where we’re joined, where I’m splitting her open. “Look at you. Taking everything I’ve got like you were made for it. Like you were made for me.”
“I was,” she gasps. “Harder. I want to feel you for days. Want bruises. Want proof.”
Proof that we’re both still human. Proof that she’s still mine. Proof we’re still alive.
I give her what she wants—brutal, relentless, exactly what we both need. The bed frame hits the wall with each thrust and I don’t give a fuck who hears us.
“You feel so fucking good,” I tell her, my voice rough. “So perfect wrapped around my cock.”
“Don’t stop,” she hisses, fingers moving frantically. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“Fuck, yes. Come for me, swan. Want to watch you fall apart.”
Her whole body goes taut, and I feel her clench around me. “Bones—I’m—”
“That’s it. Let go. I’ve got you.”
She comes with a scream that sounds like my name torn apart, her whole body seizing around me so hard I see stars. I fuck her through it, brutal and relentless, because she asked me not to be careful and I’m finally listening.
“That’s one,” I growl against her throat. “You’re giving me another before I’m done with you.”
“I can’t—” But her body’s already responding, clenching around me again, those desperate whimpers turning into something needier.
“You can. You will.” I shift my angle, hitting that spot that makes her sob. “Because you’re mine, and I say you’re not done yet.”
She shatters again, quieter this time but deeper, her whole body shaking as she clenches around me. I have to stop moving, jaw locked, because watching her fall apart twice is almost enough to finish me.
But I’m not done with her yet.
I pull out slowly, and she whimpers at the loss. “Bones—”
“On your knees.” I help her turn over, positioning her at the edge of the bed so her bad ankle hangs off, no pressure. She’s trembling, face pressed into the pillow, ass in the air, and fuck—she’s never looked more perfect.
I run my hand down her spine, over the curve of her ass, watching goosebumps rise in my wake. “You said you wanted me everywhere.”
“Yes.” Her voice is muffled by the pillow, desperate. “Please.”
I grab the lube from the nightstand and squirt it between her ass cheeks, taking my time opening her up, one finger, then two, feeling her relax into it while she makes those broken little sounds I’ll never get tired of hearing.
“I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers while I’m claiming your ass,” I rasp, lining myself up and nudging my tip inside.
“Bones.” She keens.
I push in slow—have to, she’s so fucking tight—and the sound she makes is somewhere between pain and pleasure, her fingers fisting the sheets. I give her time to adjust, every muscle in my body screaming to move, to take, to claim.
“OK,” she breathes. “OK. Move.”
I do.
It’s different like this—tighter, hotter, more intense. I grip her hips and set a rhythm that has her moaning into the pillow, pushing back to meet each thrust.
“Holy fuck. Bones. Oh, god.”
“Keep touching yourself,” I growl. “Want to feel you come with my cock in your ass.”
Her fingers move frantically, and I can feel her getting close again—the way her body tightens, the pitch of her moans climbing higher.
“That’s it, swan. One more. Give me one more.”
She screams into the pillow as she comes, her whole body clamping down on me, and that’s all it takes.
I bury myself deep and let go, the orgasm ripping through me—violent, cleansing, like something dark being purged from my blood.
I spill inside her with a sound that’s more growl than groan, hips jerking erratically as I empty everything I have, everything I am, into the only person who’s ever made me feel like more than what I’ve done.
“Emma.” Her name comes out wrecked. “Fuck. Emma.”
I slide out of her and collapse beside her, shaking, hollowed out in the best way. She moves to me and drapes herself over my chest, her heartbeat against mine, and for the first time tonight I feel clean.