Devoured - Cathryn Fox Page 0,33

move my body as he cradles me, rotate my hips around his thick cock, wanting more, wanting everything as a new, almost frightening kind of hunger takes hold. “Take what you need, Peyton,” he says, like he can see into my soul, understand I’m still that small frightened girl who asked for nothing. My throat squeezes tight, my hair falling forward as I lean into him. “Take everything you need,” he says, his voice rusty and harsh, thick with an emotion I can’t identify.

I rock against him, knowing I’ll never truly have what I need, not from him or any other man. My breasts rub against his face, and I lift, only to slowly sink back down. His hands move to my face and he cups my cheeks, bringing my mouth to his. He groans into my mouth, and I swallow his moans as he lets go, giving in to the need gripping his body. I struggle to breathe with each hard pulse inside me.

“I feel you,” I murmur, the pleasure so intense as his release sears my insides and stimulates all my nerve endings, and I come again. “Oh my God, Roman,” I breathe into his mouth.

“I know, Peyton, I know,” he moans, and peppers kisses to my nose and cheeks and chin. “Jesus, I know,” he says. I inch back to take in the darkness in his eyes, the need he’s desperately trying to hide. Or maybe I’m imagining it. I’ve wanted for so long to be wanted and needed, maybe my mind is playing tricks on me and the sex is messing with my perception of reality. He cups the back of my head and brings my face to his shoulder. His hand strokes down my hair, his touch so soft and gentle, my stupid heart misses a beat. Once again, I let my mind wander, live in a fairy-tale world where Roman and I could be more. Is that what I want? I bask in it for a second, until his worried voice breaks the spell.

“Shit, we just made a big mistake.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Roman

I LIFT HER from my lap, and we both collapse on the warm decking. The warm late-day sun disappears behind a heavy cloud, darkening the rooftop—not to mention my mood. Talk about a colossal mistake. What the hell is wrong with me? What was I thinking? Oh, maybe I wasn’t thinking—not with the head on my shoulders—because I simply couldn’t get inside this sweet girl fast enough, but goddammit she deserves better from me.

“Roman?” Peyton’s eyes are wide when they search mine, seeking answers, and the fear I see there is like a punch to the gut. Christ, I’m not even sure she’s breathing.

“I didn’t—” I begin, but stop when the worry in her eyes deepens, triggering a pang of unease deep inside me. I push the hair from her face. Shit, what is going through her mind? “I didn’t use a condom,” I tell her. “I completely forgot, and I’m so damn sorry.”

She nods and the breath she’d been holding leaves her lungs in a whoosh. “Is that all?” she finally says, and I put my hand on her shoulder, her muscles relaxing under my touch. Is that all? That’s her reaction? What the hell? I thought she’d be as upset as I am, but she seems to be okay with it. What am I missing here, or more importantly, what the hell did she think I was going to say? What could be worse than not using a condom, especially when we have no future?

I brush my thumb over her skin. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, and averts her gaze, but I’m not having any of that. I want openness and honesty between us. I cup her chin and bring her focus back to me. That’s when I see it, right there in the depths of her eyes. This sweet vulnerable girl puts a big smile on for the world but underneath it all, she’s still lost, still vulnerable, still thinks she’s unlikable...unlovable.

“Did you think I meant me sleeping with you again was a mistake?” I ask, wrapping the question in a soft voice.

“I guess, maybe.”

“Because of my relationship with Cason?” Yeah, he’d give me a beating if he ever found out—hate me for the rest of my life, likely—but she said she’d keep our secret and I trust her.

“Well...no. This isn’t about Cason.”

“Then what?”

She shakes my hand from her chin and turns from me, her long auburn

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