Page 74 of Devour

“You did so good, baby.” I brush the hair off her forehead. It’s stuck to her skin with sweat and tears. “So fucking perfect for me.”

I press my forehead to hers while I massage her sore wrists. My cock is still buried in her ass, and her legs are locked around me. I can feel her heartbeat when I press my palm flat against her chest.

Fuck. Every part of her consumes me. I’m not giving her up. There’s not a chance in hell. I’ve already laid the path to make her my wife.

I don’t give a fuck if it’s obsession or love. Does the line between the two fucking matter? The end result is the same. For the rest of my fucking life, there isn’t a day that she isn’t going to be mine. I’ll make sure of it.

CHAPTER 30

SAYLOR

Ican’t breathe.

There’s weight on top of me. It’s heavy, pressing me into the mattress so hard my ribs ache. I can’t move my arms. I can’t turn my head. Someone is holding me down, and I can’t see his face. All I can see is blurred darkness.

There’s a voice right against my ear, but the words are thick and muffled. I can’t make them out no matter how hard I try.

I wake up gasping.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I reach beside me, searching for Axl. But the bed is empty. Then I remember that he woke me up earlier to tell me he had a meeting with the Sinclairs. I should have gotten out of bed then, and I wouldn’t have had another nightmare. But my body aches from last night, and I didn’t want to move.

My pulse is pounding in my ears. My skin is damp, and I’m gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles ache.

I sit up and press the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to shove whatever that was out of my head. My breathing is ragged. I don’t know why I keep having these nightmares. Or what they’re trying to tell me, if anything. Something about them feels so real.

I reach for Axl’s pillow and pull it against my chest and press my face into it. It smells like him and the soap from when we showered together last night. It instantly helps the tension leave my shoulders.

I force myself to focus on his scent and not think about the nightmare. Every muscle in my body hurts—my ass, my thighs, my wrists, and my shoulders from being tied to the headboard for hours.

The new piercings throb when I shift. I look down at them—two silver barbells through my nipples, the skin around them still red and swollen. They’re sore as hell, but every time I look at them, I just think of Axl and how he can’t seem to find enough ways to mark me as his. There isn’t a question in my mind. I know I’m his. I don’t want it any other way.

That’s part of what makes the dreams so terrifying. I might have fucked around before, but the more time I spend with Axl, the more I can’t imagine not being with him.

I’m still in bed, trying to find the energy to get up. Every time I move my body, something new aches, and every ache reminds me of everything he did to me last night and how much he made me like it.

After he fucked my ass, we showered together. He washed my whole body and massaged each of the places that hurt. Then he fucked me against the shower wall. I have another bite mark on my left shoulder this time as a reminder.

That’s the thing about Axl that I can’t figure out. He’ll choke me until I see black and then press his forehead against mine and tell me how good I am. He’ll tie me up for hours, then massage my sore muscles and kiss every mark he left on my body. He fucks me like he’s trying to ruin me and then holds me like I’m the only one for him.

And the fucked-up part is that I want to be his everything. I don’t know when it stopped being about doing my service for this fucking secret society and started being something real. It’s real for me at least. All I know is that I can’t imagine ever wanting someone else the way I want him.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand. I have texts from Kynlee. One is a picture of Veronica looking pissed, which makes me laugh. The other is telling me she’s going to visit her parents today. There’s nothing from Axl. And I’m a dumb bitch for being a bit irritated by that.

I type out a text to Axl and hit send.

Me: When are you coming back?

Without Kynlee here, there really is nothing to do. I set the phone on my chest and stare at the ceiling. The bite mark on my shoulder throbs, and I brush my fingers over it.

I wait for at least ten minutes, expecting that he’d respond right away. He always tells me that I’m supposed to answer him immediately. It would be nice if he fucking reciprocated.

I pick up my phone and text again.

Me: You could answer me, asshole.

That should do it. And it will probably earn me some kind of punishment, but it will be well worth it if it gets him back home with me.

I wait another fifteen minutes and check again. There’s still no response. He’s probably still in the meeting. Whatever work he’s doing for Dane Sinclair seems big. I know better than to ask him what it’s about. He still makes me practice using the knife. I don’t know what he thinks he’s preparing me for.