Page 72 of Realm of the Wicked

‘Oh, Stella,’ I whispered against her. She ground her hips against me, and I picked her up under her thighs, lifting her to me.

Fulfillment. Gratification. None of it fit. Maybe I’d have to create my own word. One that fit the bittersweet taste of having it all, and knowing I didn’t deserve any of it.

‘Damien, please,’ she moaned. I carried her back, pushing her against the rose trellises she loved so damn much, not caring how many of the full blooms fell to the ground as I kissed my way down her neck, her arching to give me more access to her pretty skin. Their sweet smell surrounded us, heavy with the impending rain.

Her skin, softer than the roses I laid her against, was intoxicating. I pressed an open mouth kiss to her jaw, breathing in deeply. If I could live in this moment for the rest of my life, I would. I’d pause time, throw away the very foundation of my existence, if it meant I got to keep this.

Stella squirmed and writhed against me, rolling her hips with small cries.

‘What do you need?’ I whispered, sneaking my hand up the loose shirt she wore. ‘Tell me what you need, Bambi.’ I’ll give you the world.

She blinked up at me sleepily, as if rising from a dream. ‘You. Only you.’

My hand found her breast, one of her perfect nipples pebbled in my fingers, and I tweaked it. Her head arched back, landing against the trellis with a quiet moan. Holding her up with my thighs, I pushed her shirt up higher, until I could take the small bud in my mouth, sucking deeply.

If I had thought her skin was intoxicating, having my lips on her nipple was something else.

‘Oh, Damien,’ she cried, twisting her hands in my hair.

Harder, I wanted to say. Pull my hair harder. Control me. Make me yours. But my mouth was occupied, my tongue busy dancing circles on Stella’s breast, exploring what made her writhe against me, and what made her sigh. It wasn’t enough for me, though. I needed more.

Gently, I brought her back to standing on her own feet, pushing the pants she wore down and away. They were stopping me from seeing every inch of her skin, and I never wanted to see them again. Stella stood in front of me now in just her loose shirt and her underwear, a pretty blush spreading across her face.

A smile twisted across my lips. When would smiling feel natural again? ‘You are… more than I ever could’ve dreamed of in a thousand years.’

My reward was a soft smile in return. Stella grabbed for my hand, pulling it back to her body. ‘Please. Touch me. I can’t wait any longer.’

I scooped one arm behind her, giving her some support, and toyed with the top of her underwear. Oddly, I felt nervous. My fingers trailed across her skin, delicate and smooth.

‘Please,’ she whispered, rolling her hips up.

I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life. But if they all led to this moment, I’d never regret a single one of them.

26

STELLA

I hoped he wouldn’t make me ask again.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

He slipped his hand inside my underwear, sliding his fingers down until he found the slick wetness between my thighs. As he dragged his finger along the seam of me, we both moaned.

There was no way I was in Hell, because this was too perfect. This wasn’t a punishment. This was a reward. He eased one finger in, and I squirmed above him. I grabbed his shoulders, my eyes wide, only to close them when he added a second finger, fucking me slowly with his hand.

‘Is that what you needed?’ he murmured. ‘Is that it all it would’ve taken for you to be this pliable in my hands on day one? I would’ve fucked you with my fingers a long time ago if I’d known this would be the reaction.’

I pushed my hips against his palm with his next thrust, and shuddered, murmuring something incoherent about torture. This was the best kind of torture I could think of.

He picked up speed, my core tightening around him. I didn’t want to come anywhere other than around his cock, not when we were finally so close, but just one wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just one, while I let myself go, shattering on his fingers.

‘Come for me, Bambi. I’m right here. Just let it all go, and show me how pretty you look when you come.’

I moaned, a vice grip on his shoulders to keep myself upright through the building pleasure. He moved his fingers harder, faster, and I wasn’t sure I was even in the same realm any more. I opened my eyes, desperate to see his perfect face. My orgasm crashed into me, a tidal wave I couldn’t stop, and I trembled and swore while he held me. He didn’t stop, fucking me slowly with his fingers, taking me through every last drop of my pleasure. Every part of my body was soft, pliant. I’d never felt so at peace.

He materialized a blanket out of nowhere, laid me down on the grass, removed the rest of my clothes – and his – until we were both bare, exposed beneath the sun and moon, fighting for space in the false sky. He was flawless, every part of him carved of marble, perfection created from brimstone. I reached my arms above my head, enjoying the way the stretch went through my entire body, and a thousand emotions rushed through his gaze. I watched each one, raising my hand to rest gently on his cheek. He whispered something I couldn’t quite make out.

He trailed his soft hands down my shoulders, pressed kisses across my sternum, my soft belly, my thighs. I wanted to memorize every touch he gave me, every gentle caress, just in case I was dreaming, so that I could replicate this dream tomorrow, and the next night, and every night until I ceased to exist.