Leo VanceThe immediate aftermath of their possession was always the same: a profound, heavy silence broken only by the sound of my own ragged breathing. My body was a field of aching nerves, tired beyond measure, yet thrumming with a sick, hyper-alert energy. I lay tangled in the crisp, high-thread-count sheets, utterly defeated, utterly claimed. The fear was still there, but it had been moved, filed away under the "High-Priority Emotional Assets: Management Required" section of my mind.Dmitri had moved to the window, a dark, motionless silhouette against the faint pre-dawn light filtering over the lake. He was always the one to withdraw first, satisfied with the physical affirmation of his command.But Ivan remained. He lay close behind me, his arm draped across my waist, heavy and warm—not in a comforting way, but in a way that asserted continuous, gentle ownership. He wasn't asleep; I could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his chest against my back.I hated him. I hated his cold,
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