Aeris's cry tore through the room raw, breathless, the kind of sound that came from the very bottom of her lungs when control finally snapped. It wasn't delicate or pretty. It was wrecked, desperate, beautiful in its ruin.
Her back arched off the bed in a sharp, trembling bow, every muscle seizing as Zaeryn drove into her again, deeper than yesterday, deeper than she'd ever been taken. The stretch was obscene, perfect. There was no pain left, only a white-hot fullness that turned her nerves to liquid starlight. Her fingers clawed into the sheets, knuckles bone-white, nails carving half-moons into the fabric while her head thrashed back into the pillows. Dark hair spilled everywhere, a wild halo framing her flushed face.
Yesterday on the couch had felt like the peak of everything. Tonight, stretched open on Zaeryn's bed with Ravena watching like a hungry goddess, Aeris understood that had only been the doorway.
