The Prey

His hand pushed me into the mattress. My every breath was stolen and was smothered by the familiarity of him.

His heat seeped into my skin, branding me. Burning me.

Sinful lips found my neck, teeth scraped as though tasting the leftovers of my resistance. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t kind—it was possession in its purest and most terrifying form. The jerks of his hips slowed, but the intensity burned hotter. Carving his name into my very marrow.

My body betrayed me, trembling under his as though pleading for something I couldn’t name. Shame mixed with longing, a venomous cocktail that numbed everything but him.

“Mine,” he growled...