Crave Me,Kill Me
His hands were everywhere jaw, waist, thighs, between her legs, parting her again like he needed to reclaim what the system had tried to steal.
She was already wet. Already open. And when he pushed inside, she cried out because this was no longer eroticism.
This was sovereignty.
They fucked like they were imprinting a warning.
A seismic message embedded in skin:
You can copy the shape.
But not the soul.
She came first eyes open, teeth bared.
Cassian followed, hips thrusting hard, jaw clenched, groaning her name into her mouth like it was gospel.
Afterward, they didn’t separate.