Page 156 of Savage Crown

His body presses me deeper into the stone, into him, until there’s no space left, no air, no thought—only him.

I feel the hard, insistent press of his cock against my thigh, and gods, I want him. I burn for him.

His mouth crashes against mine again, but this time it’s slower, darker, as if he’s savoring the moment before it consumes us both. His tongue slides against mine, and I shudder, dragging my nails down his spine, raking, marking, letting him feel what he does to me.

His breath hitches, and I smirk against his lips, my hips rolling against him, feeling him shudder in response.

His hands grip my hips, spinning me around and pressing me hard against the surface. His body cages me in, his chest hot against my back, his cock pressing insistently between my thighs.

It’s hard, huge and hot. And he’s humping me, and I grind into him.

“Yes!” I gasp, every part of me screaming for him.

His mouth finds my neck, my shoulder, biting and sucking until I’m breathless, my fingers clawing at the rock for something to hold onto.

His hands drag down my back, gripping my thighs, spreading me open for him. He leans in, his breath hot and unsteady against my ear.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” he growls, his voice rough, feral.

I laugh, breathless and wrecked, my body already trembling with anticipation. “Good.”

He thrusts into my pussy, hard and deep, and the world fractures.

I cry out, my fingers digging into the stone, the feeling of him stretching me, filling me, consuming me whole. There’s no space between us anymore—only this, only him.

My eyes roll back as ecstasy threatens to take me under. “Oh! Gods!”

His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me back against him, forcing me to feel every inch, every pulse, every raw, aching moment.

“Little thief,” he growls, driving deeper, harder, rougher, his rhythm relentless, unforgiving.

My breath is a wrecked mess, gasps and moans spilling between us, lost to the night air. “Yes,” I whisper, shaking, breaking beneath him.

His grip tightens, his pace brutal, unrelenting, each thrust sending fire curling through my veins. I don’t just feel him—I feel everything.

The raw, aching stretch of his cock inside me, the heat of his skin against mine, the desperate grip of his hands, the way his body claims and consumes me as if he can merge us together, make us one.

My body tightens, coiling, trembling, a pulse of pleasure building too fast, too sharp. I reach for him, my fingers curling over his wrist, his arm, anything to hold onto as I fall apart beneath him.

“Rylan—” My voice shatters, a scream of pure ecstasy slipping past my lips.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my jaw, his thrusts relentless, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

I break.

Pleasure rips through me, blinding, all-consuming, endless. My body arches, tightening, clenching around him as I cry out.

“Seraphina!” He groans, his rhythm staggering, his body shuddering as he follows me to the top.

His breath is ragged, his arms locking around me, holding me close as he buries himself deep, releasing everything into me, into us, into this moment that neither of us can take back.

The world settles.

The only sound left is our uneven breaths, the crash of our hearts, the lingering heat between us.

He doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

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