Xavier gripped the wheel like it owed him blood. The engine roared as the car tore down the road, the city lights blurring around him. His jaw was locked. His veins bulged. His cheek still burned from the slap. His fists were clenched so tight on the leather his knuckles turned bone white.

Every word she’d spat at him echoed in his skull.

Whore.

Filthy.

Slut with nothing to offer but her body.

His throat ached with swallowed screams. His cock was hard. Aching. Leaking. Not from pleasure.

From rage.

From need.

His foot pressed down harder on the gas. Seventy. Eighty. Ninety.

He was seconds away from fucking losing...