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grinding myself against his palm. “You can fuck as many people as you want. It’s not going to change the fact that you’ll be thinking about my pussy until you’re old and gray.”

My words snap whatever leash has been holding him back. Devan digs his hand into my hair and bends me backward until I’m relying on his strength to keep me off the floor. “You think your pussy is that good? So good I’ll be comparing every other person to it for the rest of my fucking life?”

I can’t breathe, can’t think. Can only speak the truth. “Yes.”

He curses. “You’re goddamned right it is.” He kisses my breasts roughly, almost like he’s marking his territory. Maybe I shouldn’t be into that, but I most definitely am. I want him to touch me harder than he did with the spanking last night. To leave little marks on my body that I’ll be wearing for days. Something more permanent than we are.

More, more, more.

I need endlessly more.

He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed, dropping down on his back. I try to find my balance, but Devan doesn’t give me a chance. He lifts me up to straddle his face. And then his mouth is on my pussy and, fuck, I’m going to miss this so fucking much. The way his tongue plays over my most intimate flesh, how he knows exactly how to torment me with pleasure. How dirty it feels when he slides his tongue into me while he watches my face.

“Yes,” I moan. I rock my hips and he lets me rub myself on his lips and tongue, moving in time with me in a way designed to get me off hard and fast. I try to slow down, wanting this to last, but he grabs my hips, forcing me to keep pace. All too soon, my entire body clenches and I cry out as I come all over him.

He slides out from beneath me and I slump to the bed. I manage to turn my head to watch him take off his pants. This is all moving too quickly, a frenzy driven by the sheer lack of time we have left. Even so, I can’t help appreciating the sight of him. “You should be naked more often,” I murmur.

Devan hesitates. “You like what you see.”

“No shit I like what I see.” I push myself up so I can view his whole body. God, he’s just perfect. Soft and hard and so damn strong. I lick my lips. “I can’t decide what I want to take a bite out of first—your thighs or your chest.”

“Dirty girl,” he murmurs, but his lips curve a little. “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

I obey slowly, liking how closely he watches me. Devan finally crawls onto the bed behind me and runs his hands over my back and hips, down to grip my thighs. He spreads me even wider. “Better.”

It’s so much easier like this. He’s owning me, but without his dark gaze seeing too much, I’m able to say. “Mark me.”

He pauses. “Mark you.”

“Yes.”

Devan dips his thumbs down to part my pussy. He shifts and then the blunt head of his cock is there, pressing against me. “Elaborate.”

I drag in a breath, but he doesn’t push inside, doesn’t move except a slight flexing of his hands against the lower curve of my ass. I’ve already told him what I want; it isn’t so hard to give him the clarification he needs. “I want bruises from your fingertips. I want to keep a part of you.”

“Even bruises fade eventually, birthday girl. Nothing lasts forever. Not even this.”

Especially not this.

Chapter 16

We’ve already extended our time once. It won’t happen again. Devan knows it, and I know it. I close my eyes, hating the gritty feeling of unshed tears. “Still. That’s what I want.” Mark me so I have a piece of you past this deadline. Please.

He hesitates so long, I suddenly wish I could see his face, even though I know I won’t be able to identify any of the emotions he’s actually feeling. He’s too good at keeping things locked down. Finally, Devan moves, thrusting into me slowly. Every other time we’ve done this, he’s worked himself into me in slow strokes.

Not this time.

He’s not moving fast, but he’s also not giving me time to adjust. I whimper and jerk forward, trying to escape the endless onslaught of his giant cock, but he tightens his grip on my hips, pinning me in place. Each fingertip digs deliciously into my skin, a constellation of pain on each hip. I know even without looking that I’ll sport his bruises later. Maybe not forever, but for a while. For longer than a moment.

Even still, it’s almost too much. I feel like he’s breaking me down, shattering my already jagged edges. “Wait!”

Devan hesitates. “Wait doesn’t mean red.” But he waits all the same.

“I know.” A tear escapes the corner of my eye, and then another. I can’t stop them. I don’t even bother to try. At least he can’t see my face, won’t know…

I really should stop under-estimating this man.

He pulls out of me and flips me onto my back. Devan takes in my tears in and gently reaches out and brushes his thumb over the sensitive skin beneath first one eye and then the other. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” I shake my head. I can’t stop the tears, can’t explain to him that this is good and bad and inevitable, all at the same time, all tangled up inside me. “No, I don’t want to stop. Please.”

For a moment, I think he might ignore my words, bundle me up, and do something horrifying like take care of me. I like being held by Devan almost as much as I like fucking Devan. There’s something about being wrapped in his arms that makes me feel like nothing in this world can touch me, that he’ll step between me

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