Page 32 of Grim’s Angel

My orgasm crashes through my body, sharp enough to steal my breath. I cry out and pull his hair while my pussy clenches around his finger.

Grim keeps his mouth on me, drawing out every pulse until I am shaking beneath him and begging with words I will never remember afterward.

Only then does he rise over me.

His mouth glistens with my arousal. The sight should embarrass me, but he wipes nothing away. He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me deeply, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue.

The kiss sends another wave through me.

My hand travels down his chest and finds the hard length of his cock beneath his sweats. He is thick enough to fill my palm even through the fabric.

His entire body locks when I stroke him.

“Angel.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

He closes his hand around mine and raises it to his mouth.

“Another night.”

Rejection pricks at me. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

His silver eyes burn. “I want your hand around my cock badly enough that restraint feels like a blade.”

“Then why are you stopping me?”

He kisses my palm.

“Because you were taught that every gift creates a debt. That lesson doesn’t get into my bed.” His gaze holds mine. “I tasted you because I wanted your pleasure. You owe me nothing for it.”

The words reach a place his mouth could not.

Grim cleans me with a warm cloth, brings me water, and returns to the bed only after I hold out my arms.

He settles beside me and gathers me against his uninjured side before pulling the blanket over us. His erection remains hard against my thigh, but he asks for nothing.

“Stay until I fall asleep,” I whisper.

His arm tightens around me.

It does not take long before I fall asleep in the arms of a man who looks like danger and treats my pleasure as something freely given rather than a price I have to pay.

Chapter 5

Grim

McKenna sleeps with one hand wrapped around my wrist, as if even unconscious she intends to make sure I keep my promise to stay.

Dawn moves through the cabin in pale strips. Her hair covers my chest, one soft thigh lies across mine, and every breath warms the skin above my heart.

I have fallen asleep beside women before. I have never allowed one to remain in my bed until morning. Morning invites familiarity, and familiarity becomes the kind of need I swore I would never give another person the power to use.

At ten years old, I watched my father leave my mother for a woman young enough to be mistaken for his daughter. He came from old money, but by the time he met my mother, the fortune was nearly gone. He married her to pull his family back from bankruptcy, then left once her wealth had restored the life he believed his name entitled him to.

At eleven, I stood beside her grave and learned that love can finish killing someone long after the person who wounded her walks away.

I built the rest of my life around never making the same mistake.