Page 108 of Devil in Her Details

Lilly lifted her hips and reached between them and wrapped her hand around him, positioning him at her entrance.

She sank down slowly.

Oh Lord, it felt so full.

So beautiful, connecting with him like this. Becoming one.

She hesitated when she met resistance, and he stilled with her. Except for his thumb. That thumb never stilled. And it urged her to continue. To claim this unclaimable panther. She sank past the barrier too.

Her breath caught at the sensation.

“All right?” he asked raggedly.

“Downright blissful.” The momentary ache dissolved into a desire that made her hips want to move. This was so blazing scandalous, but nothing had ever felt so right, so complete, in her life.

His free palm splayed over the flesh of her bottom, kneading. “Christ, you feel good, love. Move when you’re ready.”

She rolled her hips experimentally, and the sound Dagger made was reward enough to do it again. And again.

His fingers dug into her flesh. “You are the death of me.”

“Tell me what you feel,” she said urged softly.

His eyes found hers, dark and stripped of every defense. “Like I’m never going to want anything else.”

I feel the same.

But she swallowed the words into her heart and braced her hands on his chest and moved, his hand on her bottom lifting her slightly to meet each roll of her hips. If this was their last night together, she was determined to enjoy every second of his presence.

She took in the raw desire on her panther’s face.

This is what I wanted. This, exactly this. Him beneath her with all walls dismantled, looking up at her like she was the only fixed point in a room that was spinning. She was spinning, but she couldn’t stop looking at him, either.

Lilly finally shut her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure roiling in her body, the tightening at the core of her spreading outward with each movement until she couldn’t hold the sensations inside her any longer. He must have seen it on her face, for his fingers between were weaving magic, and she exploded atop him in a fashion not even fireworks could match.

She was vaguely aware of her fingers digging into his chest, of his low curse beneath her, of his grip on her hips turning iron-tight.

Then he flipped her.

Lilly gasped as he settled between her legs and started pounding, his forearms bracketing her head, his breath ragged against her temple. She wrapped her legs around him and held on, letting him seek his own pleasure in her body.

She considered herself a sensible woman. She understood the shape of the world she lived in. But all the sensible arrangements in the world could not change the one true fact that pounded as deeply in her heart as this man into her body.

You are my one and only.

*

Dagger had many moments in his life where he’d believed he was going to die. One particular moment just so happened to be the night he got the scar on his face. A stranger had intervened that night, and it had cost that stranger his life. Dagger had escaped only because some fool had played the hero. His life for Dagger’s. He’d even gone back, only to watch as the man’s body was carted off, his lifeless arm hanging off the side.

He’d made a promise to himself then.

A promise that no one would ever pay that price for him again. That he would become someone without weakness so that the equation would never present itself again. That was the night he stopped being a boy.

He glanced at the woman sleeping peacefully in his arms.

But he had always wondered why he had survived that night. Why someone had saved him. Why he had survived every night after that. He had then come to believe it was so that he could meet his brothers and have their backs. Always. And he still believed that to be true. But he didn’t believe anymore that was the only reason.

Lilly had been the other, he was sure of it. He’d survived all those narrow escapes from death’s clutches just so he could meet Lilly Trenton.