CHAPTER 10: SHATTERED BETWEEN WORLDS

CHAPTER 10: SHATTERED BETWEEN WORLDS

SELENE'S POV

His grip on my breast grows rougher, kneading with a furious insistence that sends fresh shockwaves through me, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple as if he owns every twitch of my body. His pace quickens, hips slamming, pounding, driving that huge, magnificent length of his deeper inside me with relentless force.

The sound of us—wet, primal, obscene—fills the room. The lewd slaps of skin against skin echo like a wicked rhythm, a song I can’t shut out, each beat pulling me further from sanity. My body sings to that sound, betrays me to it, trembling as though it were composed only to break me.

He grits out words between thrusts, his voice ragged, edged with pleasure but still darkly controlled.

“You love it, don’t you?”

I choke on a moan, my head thrown back, eyes glassy with tears I can’t hold back. I force myself to look at him, to meet his face even through the haze.

Oh God. That look.

Desire sculpts every line of his features, his expression wild yet controlled, showing me he is burning every bit as much as I am. He is drowning in this madness too, though the possessiveness etched into his gaze makes it clear—he won’t let me go. That raw ownership carved across his face makes my walls clench tight around him, gripping desperately as though my body itself wants to keep him locked inside.

“Oh God…”

His hold on my breast turns brutal, his hips pistoning faster, deeper, harder. Stars scatter across my vision, my head swimming as though the world itself has shattered.

“This is going to be a very long morning, baby girl,” he rasps, breath ragged but confident, never faltering. “I promise you—I won’t stop until you come three times on this bed.”

My lips part, words lost in broken gasps. Three times…? Dear heavens, I can barely survive one.

And still—why the hell hasn’t Lyra or Morganna returned? It’s been more than five minutes, hasn’t it? Why aren’t they here? Where the hell are they?

I barely register the thought before it is ripped apart.

Because he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t relent. His cock spears through me with a force that feels like it’s splitting me in two, merciless and unyielding.

He hammers into me harder, the obscene clapping of our bodies crashing through the room louder, lewder, an unholy hymn pounding to the rhythm of my unraveling.

“F-fuck!” The scream tears from me as the orgasm hits, violent and devastating. It detonates inside me, blanking my mind, shattering my grip on control. My back bows sharply against the bed, my hands clawing at the sheets for anchor, any anchor. My body convulses in waves of trembling heat as pleasure crashes mercilessly through me.

But he doesn’t stop.

God help me, he pounds me through it, every thrust dragging the climax out, stretching it, intensifying it until I can’t even tell where the explosion ends or where it begins again. My moans dissolve into sobs, my eyes stinging with tears as the overwhelming bliss tears through me.

And still—he grows more brutal. Louder. Faster. The pounding shakes the bed, the room, the walls, driving me deeper into a madness I can’t fight.

Tears streak down my cheeks, my throat raw from cries. He gives me no reprieve, no pause, no space to breathe.

Then—suddenly—he rips free of me. My body jerks at the loss, aching at the sudden emptiness.

Before I can gasp, he grabs me, spins me, forces me onto all fours. My palms sink into the sheets, my knees digging into the mattress. My heart races wild, my body trembling.

His hand cracks down against my ass with a sharp smack. Pain blooms, hot and stinging, curling deliciously into pleasure.

“I guess it’s time to dominate you from behind,” he growls, voice thick with promise. “Can you imagine how fucking delicious that’s going to be?”

God help me…

His voice—sweet sin, dark temptation—slides straight into my soul. He is no werewolf, I know that now. No ordinary creature could have a voice that feels like this, an aura that bends my body into submission without command. What the hell is he?

My breaths stutter, sharp and unsteady, as his cock presses against me from behind, then drives deep inside with one thrust. I cry out, my body jolting forward from the force, his hands gripping my waist like I am his most prized possession.

My cries turn into ragged sobs as he pounds into me from behind, slamming me so hard the bed creaks beneath us, his grip branding me as his.

The wet slap of our flesh colliding fills the room, every thrust followed by another smack to my ass, his palm landing cruel and heavy. Each strike makes me cry out, tears blurring my vision, my body shaking violently under his control.

My eyes roll back. My voice breaks into jagged gasps. I claw at the sheets, my nails tearing fabric as I struggle for breath, for any ounce of control.

But he’s merciless.

He thrusts harder, faster, his hips pounding into me with an aggression that strips me of reason, that scatters my thoughts until all that’s left is sound—his voice, his moans, my cries, the endless wet slaps of our joining.

“Oh God—I can’t—” My words collapse into a broken groan.

I try to hold on. I try to stop the rising tide, but it’s impossible. His pace only quickens, crueler, harder, each thrust angled perfectly to destroy me. My body betrays me completely, begging even as I cry.

And then—just as I teeter on the brink of that second climax, just as the world threatens to crack open—

“We’re back, Selene!”

Lyra’s voice.

The door slams open.

My eyes fly wide in horror.

In an instant I whip around, scrambling to sit upright on the bed—only to realize…

He’s gone.

Vanished. Again.

I sit frozen, chest heaving, heart pounding so violently I can barely hear anything but its roar. My body aches with the ghost of his presence, my pussy still trembling, the echo of him still lodged so deep inside me it hurts.

God—it’s not helping. I’m still perched on the knife-edge of orgasm, the desperate fire lingering, unfinished, burning me alive. He left me here, abandoned in the haze of what almost was.

And then I see them.

Lyra and Morgan stand frozen in the doorway, their wide eyes locked on me.

Oh God.

Oh shit.

I’m naked. Completely naked. Sweat drenches my body, my hair tangled and wild.

The look on their faces—the raw disbelief, the shock—hits me harder than a slap. Lyra’s mouth opens, but no words come. Her lips tremble with the effort to form something, anything, to explain this mess she’s walked into.

And me?

I bite down on my bottom lip, trembling, trapped in the silence.

Oh fuck.