Page 30 of Demon Daddy’s Hidden Daughter (Demon Daddies #8)

Her hands roam over my back, tracing the scars there with reverent fingers, and I shiver under her touch.

Every caress feels like a brand, marking me as hers in ways that go far deeper than skin.

The war brands on my arms seem to pulse with warmth where she touches them, and I've never felt more proud of what I am—what I can offer her.

"You're so beautiful," I murmur, pressing kisses along her jaw, her throat, anywhere I can reach. "So fucking perfect, love. Do you know what you do to me?"

She whimpers, her hips rising to meet my thrusts, and the rhythm we create together is like poetry in motion. Slow and sweet and building toward something transcendent. I can feel her body responding, tightening around me with each stroke, and I know she's climbing higher with every movement.

My hand slides between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and the touch makes her sob my name. "Rhyen, please."

"I've got you," I promise, my thumb circling in time with my thrusts. "Let me take you there."

The moonlight streaming through the windows bathes us both in silver, making her skin glow like something ethereal. Her hair is spread across my pillow like spilled silk, and the sight of her beneath me, lost in pleasure I'm giving her, is the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.

I lean down to capture her lips, swallowing her moans as I continue that maddening pace. The kiss is desperate, hungry, full of everything we can't quite put into words yet. When I finally break away, we're both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together as we move in perfect synchronization.

"I never knew," she whispers against my lips, her voice thick with emotion and arousal. "I never knew it could feel like this."

The admission breaks something open in my chest, flooding me with fierce protectiveness and tenderness. "This is how it should always be," I tell her, my voice rough with conviction. "This is how you deserve to be touched."

Her response is lost in a gasp as I shift slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her entire body tremble. I can feel her getting closer, her breathing becoming more erratic, her muscles tensing with impending release.

"That's it," I encourage, my lips brushing against her ear. "Let go for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart."

My movements become more focused, more deliberate, designed to drive her higher and higher.

The hand between us maintains that perfect pressure while I continue the slow, deep thrusts that have her writhing beneath me.

Her nails score down my back, and the sharp pleasure-pain only adds to the intensity building between us.

"I'm so close," she gasps, her voice breaking. "Rhyen, I'm?—"

"I know." I increase the pressure of my thumb, feeling her body coiling tighter and tighter. "Come for me, Lenny. Let me see you fall apart."

She's teetering right on the edge, her entire body strung taut as a bow, and I know exactly what she needs to push her over. I lean down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive column of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

When I reach the spot where her pulse pounds beneath delicate skin, I graze it with my teeth before soothing it with my tongue. The sensation makes her sob, her hips bucking against mine, and I know she's right there.

"Come for me," I whisper against her throat, my voice a command and a plea rolled into one. "I want to feel you sweetheart."

And she does, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Her body arches beneath mine, every muscle tensing as she cries out my name, her inner walls clamping down around me with exquisite pressure.

The sight of her lost in ecstasy, the feel of her coming apart in my arms, pushes me over the edge right behind her.

My own release tears through me with devastating intensity, and I bury my face in her neck as I spill inside her, her name a broken prayer on my lips. The world narrows down to this moment, this connection, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by her.

We stay locked together like that for long moments, both of us trembling with aftershocks, our breathing slowly returning to normal. When I finally lift my head to look at her, the smile spreading across her face is radiant, transforming her features into something luminous.

"That was..." She trails off, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. "I could never have asked for anything better."

The admission fills me with warmth, with satisfaction so deep it reaches my bones. I turn my head to press a kiss to her palm, my eyes never leaving hers. "Neither could I," I tell her, and I mean every word. "Never in my life have I felt anything like that."

Her smile widens, and she pulls me down for another kiss, soft and sweet and full of promise. When we finally break apart, I carefully withdraw from her body, missing the connection immediately, but I gather her against my chest, settling her in the circle of my arms where she belongs.