Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,54

her body with the same nimble precision he used with a keyboard. Her climax hit her so hard she couldn’t breathe, could barely even gasp for air as ripples of ecstasy spread all the way to her toes and scalp.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Keep coming.”

Keep coming? Her body was all over that command, and another explosion rocked her.

“Again,” he whispered, and damn if she didn’t ride his hand to another orgasm.

“What are you doing to me?” she cried out as she peaked, because whatever it was, he could keep doing it.

His hot breath fanned her neck as he shifted, positioning himself at her entrance. “Programming you.” His deep voice rumbled with masculine need. “This is how you’ll always respond to me.”

Oh...yes.

Hooking her ankles around his thighs, she arched into him, moaning at the sensation of his broad head pushing past the tight ring of her core. The stretching sensation was bearable; the wait was not.

Panting with exertion and anticipation, she managed a breathless, “Are you saying you hacked my network?”

He looked down at her, his blue eyes glowing with intensity, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You had a strong password, but I haven’t met one yet that I can’t crack.”

His hips rolled as he eased inside her. Pain and pleasure mingled, and this was so much more than she could have hoped for. She’d always regretted that she and Dailon had never consummated their relationship, but now she knew why they hadn’t. As an angel she’d always believed that everything happened for a reason, and that there was always a plan.

But she’d lost that faith to bitterness in recent years. Maybe this was a sign that she’d been right all along, because she knew, without a doubt, that this was the moment an intimate connection was needed.

An intimate connection that reminded her to live, to love, to fight for life.

Hers, and his.

* * * *

This was the best sex Cipher had ever had, and he hadn’t even come yet.

Holy hell, Lyre was tight, her slick channel barely accommodating him, squeezing so hard he didn’t even have to move. She was doing more than enough to make him clench his teeth and hope for control.

That lasted about two seconds.

With a groan of shame, he rocked against her, sliding in and out in a slow, easy rhythm that had her making soft, sexy sounds as she clenched around him. She was close again, so responsive to his touch and his body, and shit, he needed to play with that. A lot. When they got out of here, he was going to find every erogenous zone and he was going to make her come until they both passed out.

“Cipher, I-I’m...” Her sexed-up voice put him over the top as she shouted in release.

He let himself go, lunging into her and sliding her backward in the grass with the force of his thrusts. Surging, his hips driving home as if he needed to claim her so deeply she’d always feel him, he came hard, the ecstasy reaching every part of his body.

It didn’t stop, and at the height of it, his wing anchors, raw and exposed to the elements, rolled into the position they would have taken for an angel’s embrace, the cocoon of wings around an angel and his partner.

Ah, damn, he’d gone all in with Lyre, hadn’t he?

He could hear Hawkyn now, all, “Cipher, the consummate playboy, the jackass who got my Memitim sentence extended with his uncontrollable need to nail everything that moved, finally got his angel ass plucked.”

Or Hawkyn would kill him and never have to the chance to call him “plucked.” Such stupid terms the young punk Memitim were using these days.

The last ripples of pleasure wrung him out, leaving him heaving above Lyre, his arms trembling with the strain of holding himself up as she undulated through her waning climax. Her sixth, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but he loved watching her expression and the way her glistening lips parted with each delicate cry.

Finally, she went limp, her fingers caressing his tender back as she pulled him down on top of her.

“Wow.” Turning her head, she kissed his cheek as he lay at the curve of her shoulder. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

“Better or worse?” If she said worse, he was never telling Hawkyn this story.

She chuckled. “Better. Way, way better.”

Okay, somehow that answer wasn’t any more desirable. “Ah...what were you expecting?”

“More pain, I guess.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow, ignoring the stabbing discomfort where