Page 51 of Hymns of the Broken

“Three.” His mouth drops to my breast, and his teeth scrape, then bite over my nipple through the thin fabric of my bralette.

Oh, god. Hurry up.

“Four.” I sob into his chest, desperate, teetering on the knife’s edge, every nerve in my body begging for release. And then—he stops. Completely. His fingers stay buried inside me, but motionless.

In that second, all the noise from the crowd and the music comes crashing back into my head like a cruel reminder of where we are. I claw at his chest, panic and frustration ripping through me.

“No—no, no, please—”

He grins like the devil himself. “That’s not begging, Little Demon. That’s whining.” His mouth hovers just over mine, teasing, taunting, his voice a low growl.

“Five.” He slams his fingers into me again—ruthless. My orgasm detonates so fast, so violently, I scream—my body convulsing, clinging to him like he’s the only thing holding me together as I fall apart.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, his voice pure filth, pure worship. “Make a fucking mess on my fingers. That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re doing such a good job.”

He keeps fucking me through it, drawing every wave out of me until I’m trembling and boneless in his arms, my breath nothing but ragged gasps.

“You feel that?” he whispers against my neck, his tongue dragging a slow, sinful line across my skin.

“That’s mine. You’re mine.”

Chapter 9

JASPER

My hand’s still pressed between her thighs, her body trembling against the wall, chest heaving, eyes glassy and wild. I don’t move—not yet. I want to feel her shudder, feel that last little aftershock. Only when her shaking stops do I finally slide my fingers out of her.

They’re dripping.

I hold her gaze as I bring my soaked fingers to my mouth and suck them clean. Taking my time and making sure she doesn’t look away. My tongue traces every inch, savoring her taste like it’s the only thing I’ll ever crave.

God, she tastes like sin. Like something I’ll never get enough of. I let my teeth graze the pad of my finger, sucking hard, letting her see just how much I enjoy it. Fuck, I’m so hard now it hurts.

“You have no idea how fucking sweet you are,” I murmur, eyes locked on hers. “I could live off this.”

She’s still shaking. I keep my arm around her waist, holding her up, refusing to let go of her. No one gets to see her like this. All wrecked, needy, and ruined but me.

Her legs are barely working as I press my lips to her ear. “Was that the first time you ever came that hard?” My voice is pure arrogance, pure hunger. “Because if it was, you better remember who did it to you.”

I watch the color in her cheeks, the way her lashes flutter as she tries to get herself under control. But she can’t, not with me still holding her, not with the memory of my fingers inside her and my mouth on her skin.

“Next time,” I whisper, hand tightening on her hip, “it’s going to be so much worse. You’re not walking back to that bus without my handprints on your body.” I let out an evil grin.

She’s mine now, and I’m never letting her forget it.

SAWYER

I think I might be dying.

Not the dying that flashes before your eyes, but the kind where everything inside you burns alive and all you can do is hold on for dear life. My knees are still shaking. My head is swimming. I’ve never experienced anything like that.

With Blake, it was always mechanical. Awkward. Quick. He never cared about what I wanted. I never got to touch myself during—and he sure didn’t care whether I got off. Blake was the type of guy who believed every girl came just from sex alone, a few grunts, and done.

But Jasper?

Fuck.

I can still feel him—his hand, his mouth, the way he looked at me like he could eat me alive and still not be satisfied. I’ve never been so out of control. My heart won’t slow down, and I don’t know if I want it to.