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I’ve been lying in bed sobbing for what feels like hours when I hear him. I know it’s him. I can smell him. I can feel him. I don’t bother moving. I have the brief thought to tell him to leave. Instead, I just lie here as he climbs in behind me. He plucks me up and turns me over, wrapping his arms around me so my head is resting on his shoulder, my face buried into his chest. “What are you doing here?” I sniffle. “I couldn’t stand to sit outside your door and listen to you cry any longer. I’m sorry, Holly. So sorry.” “How’d you get in? I locked the chain.” That’s what I say? I literally have a shirtless Theo in my bed, and all I can think to say is: I locked the chain? Wait, hold up. I have a shirtless Theo in my bed. My hands suddenly have a mind of their own, as they travel up and down the ridges of his torso. Crap, this is not good. “Dolcezza, as much as I love you touching me, that’s not what I came in here for. I want to make you feel better. Tell me how to make you feel better.” “I’m going to go to hell for this,” I whisper before I confess, “I want you to touch me, Theo. I need you to, I want everything you’re promising.” “That, I can do.” Theo smirks, slamming his mouth down hard on mine. His teeth nibble at my bottom lip until I open for him, his tongue greedily swirling around my own. My hands continue to run up and down his body. I can’t get enough. It’s as if I’ve been set alight for the first time in my life, every nerve ending responding to his touch. I’m burning up. I need to get out of this sweater. Pulling away, I sit up and throw the material over my head. Next, I pull off my fluffy socks in a very unsexy-like movement. I look back at Theo, who is just staring wide-eyed at me. A rush of self-consciousness seeps in, and I go to cover myself with the blanket. Theo grabs my hands and holds them down at my sides. “Don’t. I want to look at every inch of you. I want to burn this image in my memory. You are gorgeous, Holly. So gorgeous I don’t know where to start.” He lifts my arms above my head, clasping both wrists in one hand. “I could start worshiping you here.” The fingers of his free hand trail down the side of my neck. “Or here,” he says as his tongue swipes across my right nipple before moving on to the left. “Mmm, there is good.” My back arches off the bed, offering my body to him. Devilish King - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09JMX7FCL