Lucian's eyes met hers—dark, burning, and wholly unreadable.
A drop of her blood clung to his lower lip. He didn't wipe it away. Instead, he lowered his mouth back to hers, and when their lips met, she tasted herself on him—rich, metallic, and strangely intoxicating.
His kiss softened for just a moment, almost tender, but his hips never slowed. The deep, steady thrusts seemed to claim her from the inside out, the angle forcing a moan from her throat that he swallowed with his mouth.
When he broke the kiss, his gaze held her as though searching for something—permission, surrender, or maybe the moment when she would break completely.
Selis arched against him, the movement pressing her chest to his. She felt his heartbeat—a strong, urgent counterpoint to her own racing pulse—matching the rhythm of his body as he drove into her again and again.
Every movement seemed to strip away another layer of control from both of them.
