Page 73 of Tempting Devil

All so they could become even richer. Was Samuel’s life really worth that much to them?

Pulling my head from his chest, I shifted my attention to the jagged mark running from his ribcage to his hipbone.

“And this?” I ran my finger along the angry blemish.

I sensed I knew exactly what it was from, but I needed to hear it from him.

“I got that when some asshole funeral director patched me up after I was shot by my best friend. But instead of being the good Samaritan I thought he was, the only reason he helped me was so he could sell me for top dollar to a bunch of traffickers, who would make me fight in death matches they broadcast on the dark web.”

“I…” I grappled to find the words I needed.

I didn’t think any words existed that could convey just how much my heart ached for him. This man had been through hell. Yet he managed to survive. Managed to not give up when it would have been so easy for him to do just that.

Without thinking about the consequences, I grabbed his cheeks and slammed my mouth against his. He stiffened, his hands going to my wrists, as if about to push me away. But he didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, we remained in this place, our lips locked in limbo between advance and retreat.

There were a thousand reasons this was a horrible idea.

But there were just as many reasons it may be a good idea, too.

I didn’t know. But right now, that didn’t matter. I didn’t care about the lies. Didn’t care about the lives he’d taken. Didn’t care that I could lose him all over again. All I did care about was right now.

Having a small taste of Samuel again.

Even if it was the last time.

With a low groan, he moved his hands along my arms and down my back, his touch igniting every nerve with electricity. I melted against him as he pulled me closer, his lips pressed hungrily against mine. He coaxed my mouth open, his tongue swiping against mine in a dance of dominance and surrender that reminded me so damn much of Samuel I couldn’t help but release a sob.

He tore away, his concerned eyes scanning me. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No.” My reply came out as a breathless whisper. I curled my fingers around his nape, forcing his lips back to mine. “You’re the only thing that makes it not hurt.”

“Imogene,” he exhaled before crushing his lips back against mine, stealing my breath and taking it as his own.

And I gave it willingly. I’d give him anything he wanted in order to erase the past. To give him the clean slate he desperately deserved.

“I knew you were a bad idea,” he rasped out as he left rough kisses along my jawline, dipping his head into the crook of my neck.

“Why?” I panted.

The feel of his scruff beard and hands roughly exploring my body caused my heartbeat to accelerate, hunger building inside me.

“Because I knew once I had a taste of you again, I’d want more.”

His teeth nipped at my skin as he ground his hips against me, his erection hard and thick, even through his shorts.

“That I’d want all of you. That nothing would ever satisfy me again.”

“Then have me,” I whimpered.

He paused, not moving for several heartbeats as his eyes locked with mine.

Something about the way he peered at me made me think he was about to turn me down. Tell me this wasn’t a good idea.

Instead, he slammed his lips against mine, his mouth never breaking from mine as he swooped me into his arms and carried me all the way back into my bedroom.

His bedroom.