HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION
he groaned, his climax a soul-shattering release that felt like the gears behind the walls had finally jammed.
He took her with an angry, possessive rhythm, each movement a strike against the simulation, a reclamation of the "Prize" from the Architects who were watching from the dark. The "Cradle" in Ivy’s womb throbbed in time with their union, the golden light from her skin illuminating the cellar in a blinding, tragic halo.
As the resonance faded, the woman-Isabella stepped forward. She didn't look offended by their intimacy; she looked bored, as if she were watching a chemical reaction reach its inevitable conclusion.
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