23. Devina
Every ounce of this fucking marriage is real.
Stunned, I sat in silence. Why did his words feel like home? Scarlet was my home. I did this for her. But his words filled me in a way that nothing else did. I was treasured, admired, and wanted.
I’ve spent years hiding myself. I was a professional. Yet he seemed to see past the most important parts of me that I wanted to keep in the shadows. His breath was so close, tangling with mine. My soul wept for him.
“What can I do to make you believe me?” his plea, a whisper.
I don’t have an answer.
There is no answer.
A wrecking ball of desire knocked me off my feet. He was it. He. Is. Everything.
I want to deserve this. I want to deserve him.
Is this love? I wouldn’t know. I only knew spite, hate, self-loathing. I only knew how to be broken. But the pieces of me wanted desperately to believe him.
He didn’t kiss me. He lingered just outside of my reach, but close enough to let the electricity sting me. He was waiting. He wanted to know I was there with him. I knew I was. I knew I shouldn’t be. I wanted to be.
I focused on his lips, biting mine, believing that if I could just keep them closed if I could just keep them to myself, there would be no way for him to penetrate the fortress I’d spent years building around my heart.
But it wouldn’t be enough. Ryder would take my heart. I’d give it to him freely. He might shatter what was left of it, but I would enjoy sitting in the aftermath of whatever is left scattered at my feet when this is all over.
Replying in silence, I meet him where he waits. My mouth meeting his was the permission he needed to consume me. All of me.
Breathing him in as my hands wrap around his neck, he deepens our kiss, and a low rumble builds in his chiseled chest. The sound alone is enough to make me moan into his mouth.
His arms circle my waist and pull me closer to the counter’s edge. He hooks his fingers around my pants, and I obediently push up to allow him to pull them off.
He’s on me immediately. He pulls my shirt over my head and I’m bare before him. His hands explore me as if it’s the first time. As if I hadn’t noticed he had been memorizing me for days.
He kneels before me, taking my leg and peppering a trail of kisses up to my knee, nibbling my flesh the rest of the way to my core. He looks up at me with his devilish smirk. That fucking smirk. The one that melts me. His hand reaches to glide up my stomach and over my chest until I lean back on my elbows.
My head drops back in pleasure as he takes his time lapping up the wetness that appears at the slightest touch from him. He swirls his tongue as his hands grasp onto my thighs, holding me in place.
“So fucking wet for me, sparrow,” He praises, “Always so fucking ready for me.”
My body shakes as he draws my first orgasm, but his fingers are tight and unforgiving, holding me in place. I lay back, the coolness of the counter reminding me of where I am. What he is doing to me, where I am.
“That orgasm was real.” He taunts me as he stands and wraps my legs around his center.
He removes his tie and fastens it around me, removing my sight, but heightening every euphoric stroke of his skin against mine. I whimper in response, knowing he will take his time punishing me for my doubt.
“My desire is real.” He continues. I shiver in anticipation, hearing his zipper. He rubs his thick cock up and down my center with ease since he’s made me gush all over the fucking cabinet. “Your reaction to me is real.” He traces my nipples, and I feel them pebble beneath his touch. Traitors.
His hands find my wrists, pulling them down until I’m gripping the counter’s edge. “You’ll want to hold on, Devina. By the time I’m done, your pussy will always remember how real this is, just in case you ever think to doubt it again.”
I brace myself as he enters me in one thrust, leaving me no time to adjust to his length. He pulls my legs until my ankles are perched on his shoulders, and his arm wraps around my thighs, drawing me to him.
“Say it, Sparrow. Tell me you know this is real.” He growls.
“It’s real. We’re real.” I repeat immediately and loud enough to mute the thoughts still creeping in.
Releasing my legs, I instinctively wrap them around his center while his fingers find their way to my throat.
“I need to see you, Ryde.” I plead. “I can’t see.”
“You don’t need to see.” He thrusts deeper if that’s even possible. “You’ll see when I want you to see.” His grasp becomes tighter until I begin to see stars. “You will breathe when I want you to breathe.” He releases me, and the desire for air becomes secondary to the orgasm that is now threatening to throw me over the edge. “And you will come when I want you to come.” The pressure returns to my throat as he reaches for my clit with his other hand. “Because you are mine, and I am yours, and … this. Is. Real.”
We are launched off the cliff.
But I don’t fall.
I’m flying.