Page 50 of Stolen
I need to savage her. To make her mine in every way.
But I know she feels pleasure.
I can sense it.
Fuck, I can still taste it.
Her legs wrap around me, heels pressing into the small of my back, and I give in to the rhythm.
Hard. Deep.
Slow. Then fast.
Fucking her like I need her to live.
Because honestly? I think I do.
The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes in the chamber, matched only by her moans and my gritted curses.
She feels too good. Too right.
Her nails drag down my back, then up again. Her eyes are locked on mine as she does it—slides her nimble fingers up my neck, caressing my face, and then my horns.
Fuck. Me.
I roar.
Pleasure jolts up my spine, touching every nerve ending.
She’s everywhere, everything.
My wings snap open behind me, shadows stretching across the walls.
The runes carved into my flesh burn like fire, glowing brighter with each thrust.
Magic pulses from my skin to hers, the air sparking with every grind of her hips against mine.
We are wild together.
Desperate. Ruined.
She’s close. I feel it.
“Let go for me,” I whisper into her neck, licking the skin where I’ll soon leave my mark. “Come, Jules.”
And gods, she does.
Her pussy clenches so tight I nearly explode.
She cries out, shattering under me, her back arching, body spasming, voice breaking.
I follow with a savage growl, thrusting hard one last time, emptying myself deep inside her as my fangs pierce her shoulder.
I bite.
I claim.
And that’s when the world detonates.
