out of the rose as his middle finger presses into my clit and starts circling the swollen bud.
My back arches and I can’t stop the high-pitched moan that escapes as raw bliss rolls through me.
I force myself to feel Zade—to feel that a man is touching me. Making me feel good. And that I’m enjoying every second of it. And then I push those other men from my mind and think only of the one wrapped around me.
I don’t want to come with the images of the depraved monsters that stole from
me, even if I’m blowing their heads off. I only want to see the man that’s given
me everything. A beast who has bent my will to succumb to him yet has shown
me the true meaning of love and devotion.
“Zade,” I mewl as the orgasm crests. I hear him hiss through his teeth as he
circles my clit faster. He still has his other hand wrapped around mine, the stem
clenched in my grip. He flexes his fist, forcing the sharp thorns deeper into my
flesh. The pain swirls with the heady pleasure and a hoarse shout rings out.
Rivulets of blood continue to trail down my arm, dripping off my elbow and
onto my stomach. I look down, watching the streams of red aim towards where
Zade touches me.
My mouth parts, the euphoria spiking as I watch him. His hand is fucking
massive, with long fingers, thick veins laced throughout, seeming to pulse as he rubs my clit.
It’s so erotic that I can’t hold on any longer. I cry out as I finally let go, the
orgasm crashing into me so hard that I nearly come off the floor from the power
of it.
Zade growls, cupping my pussy as I ride the waves, my hips rolling against
his hand while his name fills the air around us.
I feel him tensing beneath me, but I’m too lost to care. I’m too desperate for
this feeling to never end.
We both drop the rose simultaneously, and I don’t stop to consider what I’m
doing when I reach back, grab ahold of Zade’s face with both hands, and guide
his lips down onto mine.
A deep rumble vibrates through his chest, and he once more seizes the
underside of my jaw, granting us both a better angle as he devours me.
His tongue lashes against my own, tasting me until my lips are bruised and raw, and the orgasm has long since faded.
Yet the bliss remains. For the first time in months, those wicked men didn’t
plague my thoughts. I didn’t hear their voices. Their laughter, and their cruel jokes.
And my body feels so much lighter because of it.
Finally, he pulls away, and all I can do is stare up at him in wonder—the person responsible for chasing away the monsters in my head.
They’ll come back, but Zade isn’t going anywhere either.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes and brushes his lips against mine softly.
“You’ll always be safe with me, little mouse. Always.”
Feeling invigorated, I twist in his arms and tear at his blazer, the buttons flying as his heated eyes lift to meet mine, his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip. Red is smeared across his cheek from my bloody hand, and the sight
has my eyes nearly rolling.
He looks so goddamn savage, and I think my ovaries are exploding. He’s
going to get me pregnant just from this image alone.
“You sure you want to go there?” he asks, his voice dripping with sin.
“It’s what I want,” I say softly, albeit shakily.
He lifts up and the material slides down his arms. Then, I gather his button-up
shirt until his abs are exposed, along with the dark tattoos inked into his flesh.
Flattening my hands on his hard stomach, blood smearing across his skin, I push
it farther up, but he stops me.
“Don’t push yourself too hard. This wasn’t about me.”
When he goes to lean forward, I plant my hand on his chest and push him back firmly. His mismatched eyes round at the edges in surprise.
“Let me try, Zade. I’m not going to fuck you yet. I just want to touch you.”
Chapter 33
The Diamond
I’ve never seen Zade indecisive before. Not until now, while he picks apart every iota of my expression to determine if he should let me touch him.
Then, like a monster tearing through flesh, his beast takes over. He seizes me
by the jaw, bringing my face close to his.
“You think you’re ready for me? Let’s see how far you’re willing to go to please me.”
He lifts me off him, setting me to the side, then stands, pausing to look down
at me with an unreadable expression. His face is smoothed into cold marble.
Turning away, he walks to a black chair a few feet in front of me. He sits there some nights if he can’t sleep, waiting and watching for a nightmare to arise —always watching me.
Next to the chair is a little table where a glass and a canter of whiskey sits. He
pours himself three fingers and then sits back in the chair, widening his knees with his arm hanging over the side, the glass held by the tips of his fingers.
He eyes me, taking a sip of his whiskey before resuming his position.
“Crawl to me,” he orders, his voice as rough as lava rock, yet as enticing as
the spiced whiskey he swallowed. “Show me how pretty you are begging on
your knees for my cock.”
My stomach tightens with heat, and I feel my thighs growing slicker.
I make a split-second decision and grab the rose, and place it between my teeth, reveling in the small stings on my lips from the thorns.
Copper blooms on my tongue as I heed his orders, crawling on my hands and
knees with his precious rose in my mouth, hips and breasts swaying sensually.
His eyes light up, and his nostrils flare. The cool demeanor slips, and raw desire bleeds through the cracks.
When I reach him, I kneel and set the rose on my lap.
“Was that pretty enough for you?”
He chuckles and finishes off his whiskey, setting the glass down on the table.
“You’re so fucking beautiful; I want to cut the eyes from those who get the privilege to look at you,” he rasps, licking his lips predatorily.
He sits up enough to pull the shirt over his head, baring himself completely.
My mouth waters at the sight of him and I feel my skin flush all over again from how sinfully delicious he looks.
Something about tanned skin covered in black tattoos… Jesus Christ, thank