Page 76 of Seeking Shadows

“I want all of you,” I breathe, rocking harder, messier. “I want you everywhere.”

“You have me,” he growls, slamming into me from underneath, eyes wild. “Every fucked up, broken piece of me belongs to you.”

His hand tightens on my throat, the other gripping my ass, guiding me down harder as he thrusts up, matching my pace, chasing that release like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he pants. “I wanna feel you break around me. Wanna feel you lose it. Come on, baby. Let me have it. Give me everything.”

“Zane—” My voice cracks, body trembling.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Fuck, you feel so good. So good I’m losing my fucking mind.”

We crash into climax together — his name a scream on my lips, mine a growl in his throat. He spills inside me with a groan that sounds more like a prayer. His cock twitches deep, filling me with heat, and I clench around him, milking every last drop.

I don’t move. Can’t.

His arms come around me, tight, possessive, desperate.

He buries his face in my neck. Breathes me in.

And for a moment — just a moment — it feels like everything broken between us isn’t beyond repair.

CHAPTER 15

MIA

Zane’s pukinghis guts out.

I blink, confused, standing in the bathroom doorway as Zane grips the sink like the floor is about to cave in.

The sound is horrible, but what really worries me is the way he takes a deep breath afterward, as if trying to compose himself.

“What happened to you?” I ask, tilting my head.

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he runs a hand over his face, like he wants to erase the feeling of whatever just happened.

My eyes wander to his shirt, and then I see it. A bloodstain. Small, but definitely there.

I step closer. “There’s blood on your shirt.”

Zane finally looks down, but he doesn’t seem impressed. “It’s not mine.”

Oh, great. That answers absolutely nothing.

I cross my arms, thinking about asking more, but I know he won’t tell me. It could be from training, a fight, anything. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s shown up with random marks. I’ve contributed to a few of them myself. So, I let it slide.

We head to the kitchen, and while he makes coffee, I look around and notice something strange.

“Where’s Olga?”

He pauses for a second in the middle of taking a bite of bread and stares at me like I just spoke a language he doesn’t understand.

“Who?”

I almost choke. “Olga. You never pay attention to people, do you?”

He just shrugs and continues chewing, completely unconcerned. “If it was important, I would remember.”

I roll my eyes. I should be used to his lack of interest in the world around him, but it still amazes me.

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