DEVIL’s GRIP
Her orgasm hit her hard—blinding, pulsing through her in waves that left her gasping and writhing in her seat.
Zayden didn’t stop until she sagged back, panting, eyes fluttering shut with a weak, sated smile on her lips.
He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them slowly, tasting her. “Mmm,” he said with a grin. “You taste like sin, baby. Sweet, wet, perfect.”
Hema covered her face with both hands, still flushed, still dazed. “You’re insane,” she whispered.
Zayden laughed. “And you’re mine. Every inch. For the next five days… and every night after.”
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