Phoebe's POV
A potent sexual scent filled the air around us.
Kevin's desire to sink his fangs into my neck was palpable—the king's mark on my skin seemed to drive him into a murderous rage. He wanted to kill me for allowing it to happen.
I should have turned Perry down immediately.
I wasn't worth this torment.
But Kevin held back from that final act, knowing he couldn't let the king discover he'd claimed his mate. Instead, he crushed his mouth against mine, biting my lips and drawing my tongue into his mouth. His hand wrapped around my throat, applying pressure to my windpipe as he drove into me.
My body wasn't prepared, and agony shot through me with each brutal thrust. Kevin showed no mercy. This was my punishment for letting another man mark me as his.
As my breath grew shallow and the pain became unbearable, I fought back.
This technique always snapped me out of my dissociative episodes. It forced my consciousness back to him.
