Selene's POV
His hands slid lower, gripping my ass now, forcing me down harder, deeper, until there was no space left between us, no escape from the brutal, aching fullness of him. The steady grind of his hips made the bed creak beneath us.
"Fuck, Selene," he groaned, burying his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged. "You feel too good. Like you were made for me."
The words gutted me. Not for you. Never for you. But my body betrayed me again, shuddering, clenching around him in desperate pulses that only fed his hunger.
My sobs came faster, quieter, swallowed into the heat of his skin. He thought it was ecstasy. He thought it was pleasure. He had no idea it was my soul breaking.
His tongue traced the line of my throat, his teeth grazing lightly over my pulse, sending sparks down my spine. "Say it again," he demanded against my skin, his voice thick with pleasure. "Say my name while you take me."
