I screamed, a raw, animalistic sound, and lunged at him, all thought of technique gone, replaced by a blind, desperate rage. I clawed at his face, kicked, bit, fought with the desperation of a cornered animal.He didn’t try to block me, not really. He absorbed my frantic attacks, a strange, almost predatory smile playing on his lips. He let me vent my fury, my pain, my despair, until I was sobbing, exhausted, clinging to him, my fists weakly beating against his chest.“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a low, satisfied growl against my hair. “That’s it. Let it out. Let the beast out, Selena.”His arms came around me, holding me tight, not in comfort, but in....possession. His body was hard against mine, his scent filling my senses. The rage was still there, a wild, thrashing thing inside me, but it was now tangled with something else. That familiar, shameful heat. That terrifying awareness of him, of his power, of his sheer, undeniable masculinity.“You feel it, don’t you, Freckles?” he
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