Delilah Devlin - Lost Souls

A dark brown brow arched. Her cheeks flushed. “Guess you’ll have to figure out a way to make sure I don’t forget this lesson.”

The hot, throbbing ache that had settled in his groin at her arrival sharpened. “Sweetheart, you won’t forget. Every time you sit you’ll get a little reminder.”

Her lips twitched.

“You first.” He followed her through the bedroom door, reluctantly realizing he’d have to keep the room completely dark to hide the fact he’d never, not even for a minute, gotten over her.

Not for a second did Cait think she was out of the woods. Sam was still livid. But while they’d talked, his cock had stirred, filled, becoming a heavy knot against the placket of his boxers.

Oh, she’d noticed and felt a burgeoning hope. Sex would smooth away the edges. Give them a chance to connect in the one way they never failed to communicate well.

Already her body was responding to his unspoken signals, warming, melting like wax. As she preceded him into the darkened bedroom, her hips swayed, inviting him to touch.

A large hand clamped on one buttock. An arm encircled her, fingers pressing against her lower abdomen as he moved in behind her. His face nuzzled the corner of her shoulder. Then his teeth bit her lobe, tugging it before he nipped the tender skin of her neck, causing her to gasp and her knees to weaken. She sagged against him, her bottom jutting to rub against the thick, hard ridge.

He peeled away her clothes, licking and nipping at everything he bared. When she was nude, he pushed her toward the bed.

She stumbled, falling onto the mattress. His strong hands gripped her waist and shoved her toward the center. Before she could get her knees beneath her, he was on top of her. His boxers gone. His cock nudging her backside, his hands pushing apart her legs.

He entered her from behind, not the deep thrust she craved, but his rutting movements, churning cream, warmed her from the inside out. His weight sank her deep into the mattress.

Her breaths were shallow, kittenish pants.

He surrounded her with his size, his musky scent, his strength. But then he withdrew, and again, his hands were shaping her, forcing her bottom up, her chest against a soft cotton comforter.

Fingers traced the length of her slit, drawing more moisture to coat the digits before sinking into her. His mouth pressed a single kiss against her bottom. When he began to pump his thick digits inside her, she wanted to say it wasn’t enough, opened her mouth to voice her complaint, but then a swat landed on her skin—sharp, stinging.

Again, she gasped, pushed up on her arms, and aimed a glare over her shoulder.

Her eyes, having adjusted to a darkness relieved by a sliver of moonlight peeking through curtains, noted Sam kneeling behind her, his face tense. His eyes, though darkly hooded, glittered in the silvery light.

Lips quirked up on one side, he swung his free hand and gave her ass an underhanded slap that rocked her body. That one she’d feel in the morning.

He challenged her with his dark eyes, thrust his fingers deeper and swirled, his thumb coming into play to rasp over her hardening clit.

All thoughts about the inadequacy of his actions flew from her mind. Her bottom and swollen sex caught fire. She faced forward again, leaned down to press her chest against the bed, and gripped the covers to hold herself still for whatever he wanted. He’d swatted her in play before, but never as a punishment. She wondered how far he’d go to make his point. Thought maybe she’d enjoy it.

His fingers slid free. A wet clap landed on the other side of her bottom. The next swat caught her directly between the legs.

She groaned, dropping her forehead to rest on the covers, surrendering, because her sex swelled, enlivened by his sweet abuse.

When her bottom and her pussy burned, his hands gripped her buttocks hard, fingers digging into hot lovestung flesh. His cock butted against her sex and then drove inside.

Cait moaned, a sound that stretched and gusted with his powerful thrusts. The thickness cramming so fast and hard inside stretched her inner walls. His heavy balls smacked against her engorged clit, giving her exactly what she needed to begin her ascent. She inched apart her knees to let him stroke deeper, to allow his groin to spank against her intimate flesh. Friction and his sexy pounding lifted her higher.

But he pulled free—so abruptly, she cried out. He turned her, dragging her body beneath his, and entered her again. His hands slipped under her, cradled her butt, and then he was stroking again, his chest against hers, his sturdy frame rocking hard and unrelenting against hers.

Cait cupped his face and lifted her head, branding his mouth with a hot kiss, which he returned with feral satisfaction, rubbing his mouth hard against hers, driving his tongue inside to duel and subjugate her own.

Her hands slid around his neck. She drew up her knees and curled her hips. Each thrust pushed the air from her lungs until she grew dizzy, her sounds more desperate.

She splintered apart, a jagged flash exploding from her core to tremble through her body.

Sam growled, gripped her ass harder, and powered into her, setting her sailing over the peak and into a pitch-black darkness.

When his movements ebbed, she rubbed her face against his, kissed his hard jaw, his throat, catching a trickle of sweat with the curl of her tongue. He dropped down, his cock and large body pinning her to the mattress. For now, she was content to lie breathless beneath him.

As her body relaxed, she roamed her hands over his back, fingers sinking into the deep indent of his spine. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

His soft grunting response made her smile.

At last, he rolled them until they lay side by side, her thigh riding his hip to keep their bodies intimately locked together.

“We should sleep,” he said, his voice already slurring with fatigue.

Nestled against his chest, for once she offered no argument.

The jarring sound of the phone ringing woke them both. Cursing, Sam reached out and slapped his nightstand, finding his iPhone.

Cait groaned and rolled to her back to watch as he tapped the screen. They’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep. Still, she was wide awake, felt a frisson of expectancy that something significant had happened.

“Pierce.”

“Get your ass down to the station,” came Leland’s gruff bark, loud enough she heard. “Reyes is here and wants to talk to the two of you.”

“Be there in thirty,” Sam said and ended the call. He rolled toward her.

Cait leaned up on an elbow.

“You hear that?” he asked, his voice rough as gravel.

“Yeah, sounds like we better hurry.”

They rushed through a shower, conserving water and time, and then headed straight to interrogation.

Leland was waiting in the hallway. “Reyes is in there.” He jerked a thumb toward the door. “And he didn’t lawyer up.” His lips curled in a snarl. “By the looks of him, he might be workin’ on an insanity plea.” He reached out and opened the door but didn’t bother following them in.

When Cait passed him, Leland leaned close. “You do something to him? I don’t care if you did. Man’s a dirt bag, but he doesn’t look right.”

“And your first thought was that I’m somehow to blame?”

“I’d be impressed.”

Really? She narrowed her gaze.

Sam’s lips twitched.

When she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, she saw what Leland meant.