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H is kisses were magic. She had no idea a man could be so alluring and sinful at the same time. She pushed up on him before the fire consumed her. “You need to rest. I can’t believe you are up to this.”

“Trust me, baby. I’m up,” he teased.

Sarah rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. How could he make her smile at a time like this? She needed to get to Racheal. She put authority in her voice, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. “Devon.”

It didn’t. He pulled her back down and took her mouth. He wasn’t asking. He was demanding she kiss him. Dominant men had always rubbed her the wrong way. Devon’s touch rubbed her in all the right ones. She moaned into his mouth.

He pushed her hips up and removed the sheet.

Her crotch ground into his erection as he pulled her shirt from her body.

He undid her belt before her bra. His hands were on her breasts, rolling her nipples.

Massaging the tender globes as his kisses continued to burn her from the inside out, leaving her wanting.

“Take them off,” he said breaking the kiss.

She couldn’t deny him. She slid off the bed.

His eyes watched every move. She slowly undid the zipper. Sliding her pants and underwear down seductively. She had never felt so wanton, stepping out of them.

He crooked his finger. “Come here.”

She could feel his excitement. His need for her made her brazen. “Or what?” One hand ran down her side.

“If you make me get off this bed. I will have you underneath me for a week.” He wasn’t lying.

“What do you want Devon?” Her seductive tone surprised her.

“I fantasize about fucking your mouth. Your lips stretching over my cock.”

She couldn’t stop her moan any more than the juices that trickled from her pussy. Her gaze locked with his. She could see his need. Feel his hunger. It was all for her. She had never wanted to be the center of attention until now. She wanted to be his.

“Give it to me Sarah. Slip those perfect lips around my dick.” His tone was low, aroused.

She moved to the base of the bed, stroking the length of his erection. She licked her lips slowly. He growled.

Sarah crawled onto the bed and up to his waist. She didn’t rush.

She felt that he liked watching her. Her lips parted as she leaned down to lick the engorged head.

She replaced his hands with hers as she took him into her mouth.

She felt him tense as she sucked him deep.

His fingers gripped her hair, tightening as she became accustomed to the warm width of him filling her mouth.

“Yes sweetheart, suck it. Don’t stop till I tell you,” he said through clenched teeth.

His girth wouldn’t allow her fingers to meet when wrapped around him, but the tandem action of her mouth and hand had him pushing against her, looking for more. She took him deep and held him there.

“Yes! That’s so fucking good,” he groaned.

She liked this. Feeling in control. Him losing his. She pulled back and sucked hard on the head before releasing him. He grabbed her shoulders.

“Enough. Get on top of me,” he commanded.

She crawled up his body and positioned him at her entrance. She didn’t move. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for.

He growled. “Sarah. Sit your sweet pussy on my cock now.”

She smiled. “Or what?”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down on him with force.

She screamed as she came. She expected him to go slow.

To have limited strength due to his ordeal.

She was wrong. His hands gripped her hips, imprinting his fingers permanently on her hips.

He met every stroke with force, pumping into her, shocking her with his vigor.

“You’re so tight. You feel so damn good.”

She didn’t know how he could talk. She couldn’t form words if she tried. Her brain was so focused on the amazing pleasure pounding through her body. She loved the sound of his voice, especially when he was at the edge of his control. Like he was now.

One hand came up to pull her breast down to his mouth. He sucked the nipple into his mouth abruptly. The sensitive nub creating a pinch of pain as his tongue surrounded it. His tempo never decreased despite his ministrations.

She felt the tightening coil in her abdomen. The need to come burning through her. He slowed down. “No! Don’t stop.” She was so close.

He nipped her breast. The sting created a fresh flow of her juices.

They ran down her thighs, coating him. An animalistic sound vibrated in his throat.

She felt his anticipation as much as she heard it.

The sensation became so much, she tumbled over the edge shouting his name.

He increased his tempo, grabbing her hips again so he could thrust deeper.

He groaned loudly as his warm jets erupted inside her.

She lay on him like a rag doll. Thoughts of moving too much effort to bear. His hand stroked light caresses down her back. She felt cherished. Loved. With it came a sense of betrayal. She lay there, enjoying herself while a madman held her best friend captive.

“Sarah, what are you thinking? You’re upset.” Concern laced his voice. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook against his chest unable to lift her head. “No. I was thinking what an awful person I am,” she admitted.

“How can you think that? You’re incredible. You could have followed in your father and brother’s footsteps yet you forged your own path. I have no idea how you did it.”

“My mother wasn’t like them. I never talk about her.”

His voice was gentle. “I was told she died when you were a toddler. You still remember her?”

“Most people think that. She didn’t actually die until I was eleven, but she was in a wheelchair for the last six years of her life,”

Devon felt her bitterness despite the even tone of her voice.

“Why does the public think she died?”

“She loved Henry. He was an Arabian stallion, and he was beautiful.” She swallowed, taking a moment to collect herself.

Devon didn’t rush her. She appreciated that.

“They were riding on our property. We were living in Texas at the time. She loved riding. Her favorite was at a full gallop. She said she never felt so free as when Henry ran full out. He was fast. So fast... anyway a rattler was roused from its den and struck. The snake didn’t get a firm hold and wasn’t able to inject its venom, but Henry startled at a full run and went down.

He rolled right over Mom, breaking her back.

” She let the old feeling of helplessness surge through her.

Devon’s arms circled around her, bringing stability and comfort to her stormy emotions. “There’s more,” he said.

“My father distanced himself from us. He was ashamed to be seen with my mother in public. Soon she didn’t leave the house. My father spent all his time with Donny. He hired a nurse to care for my mother, but sold all the animals from the farm and fired the stable staff.”

“Why? It wasn’t their fault. It was an accident.”

“He didn’t fire them because he blamed them. He fired them so there would be no one to care for Henry,” she whispered,

“He blamed the horse?”

She felt Devon’s apprehension. “Yes, he did.”

“What happened to Henry?”

“I did my best to take care of Henry, but he went lame six months after the accident. I don’t know if it was neurological, physical or the abrupt change in his diet...”

“Your father stopped feeding him, didn’t he?” He couldn’t hide his contempt.

“Yes. I fed Henry apples, carrots, and other things from the house. We had a decent pasture so I don’t think it was the removal of his hay, but he started to waste away.

Eventually, there was no way to save him.

On a rare visit to the ranch when Henry was only days from death and suffering horribly, my mother begged Brian to end Henry’s pain. ”

“Did he?”

“No. My father got off on killing animals, but the one time that skill could be of use, he refused. He said Henry ruined her life. That he could rot where he lay. He left the house and didn’t return for months.”

“He let Henry rot away and die in pain?” Devon’s disgust was evident.

“He did, but my mother didn’t. The staff left at night.

Looking back, that was probably during my father’s financial difficulties.

When they were gone, my mother asked me to wheel her out to the yard where Henry was confined.

He wasn’t allowed in the stable anymore.

We pulled her through the fence and over to where Henry stood.

When she touched him, he lay down and put his head in her lap.

He was so unstable there was no way he would be able to get up again. ”

“He died?”

“He was struggling to breathe. She whispered that she loved him, told him it was time to let go. And he did. I think he was waiting for her.”

“Your mother was a strong compassionate woman. And you’re just like her.”

“My mother wasn’t a killer like me.”

“You killed to protect yourself not because you enjoy it... is there more to the story?”

“My mother never looked at my father the same way. When he visited, it was to train me. To make sure I was strong, or so he said. When he left things were good. Until my mother’s health took a turn for the worse. Then he returned full-time. My mother’s last words to me were, I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident.”

“She wasn’t sorry about that. She was sorry for leaving me alone with my father and brother.”

Devon kissed her forehead. “Damn, Sarah.”

“It’s...” she felt blood rush through her body like a tidal wave under her skin. She rolled onto her back raising both arms in the air. They rippled like water just before they broke.

* * *

Sarah was crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that ripped Devon’s soul apart and left it bleeding on the ground. His father had said that his mother’s transformation was one of the hardest things he had ever endured. As he was a teenager at the time, he’d assumed Galen had exaggerated. He hadn’t.