Page 138 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

“Of starlight and salvation.”Thrust.

“Like everything I didn’t know I was searching for.”Thrust.

“Like mine.”

The force of his thrusts drove the breath from my lungs, pleasure bordering on pain in the most exquisite way. My body felt insanely sensitive after coming, after the bite, but I welcomed every savage snap of his hips. The raw possession in his voice made me feel claimed, marked,owned—and I wanted it, wanted to belong to him completely. My hands scrabbled against his back as I tried to draw him even deeper, desperate sounds falling from my lips that I barely recognised as my own.

His rhythm turned brutal, animalistic, each thrust threatening to split me apart. “I’m sorry,” he gasped against my neck, his control completely shattered. “I can’t— God, Flynn, you feel… too perfect… you taste too good, I can’t—”

His whole body trembled against mine like a storm about to break. The last scrap of his careful mask fell away, revealing something ancient and hungry and oh-so beautiful beneath—a creature of pure instinct, raw and wild as a midnight sea.

Wrapping my legs tighter around him, I pulled him desperately closer. I wanted this wild, untamed version of him, wanted everything he had to give, even if it broke me.

His eyes locked with mine as his rhythm faltered, a guttural sound tearing from his throat that was half growl, half sob. He crushed his mouth to mine in a bruising kiss as he came, the extraordinary sensation of his cool release filling me, making me gasp against his lips.

He shifted, settling his weight on top of me as he slipped free.

Wedged between us, my cock was still achingly hard, the bite’s euphoria singing through my veins. A desperate need seized me—to be inside him now, to claim him as thoroughly as he’d claimed me. I gathered the mess of our combined release with trembling fingers, reaching between us, all the way to his crease.

“Can I?” I whispered against his jaw, pressing a finger against him. “Please, I need— I want to be inside you.”

Seb’s eyes widened in surprise before darkening with desire. He gasped as I breached him, the tight ring of muscle yielding to my touch. He was gloriously smooth and cool beneath my fingertip, silken marble.

The bottle of lube suddenly appeared in my hand. I squeezed out far too much in my eagerness, the liquid drenching my hand.

I worked a second finger alongside the first, marvelling at how he opened for me, how his breath caught when I curled them just so. His muscles fluttered around my fingers as I stretched him, preparing him with the same care he’d shown me earlier.

“You don’t need to be quite so careful with me,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Although this is extremely enjoyable, my body is far more resilient than yours.”

I needed no more encouragement.

Gliding my fingers out of him, I knew exactly how I wanted him. Wanted us.

“Turn over,” I whispered against his ear, gently guiding him onto his side. “Your turn to be little spoon.” He huffed a quiet laugh that turned into a sharp inhale as I pressed into him, slowly sliding forward until we were fitted together like waves meeting shore.

I wrapped one arm beneath him, pulling him flush against my chest until I could feel his spine against my heartbeat. My other hand roamed with desperate wonder across the marble planes of his body—chest, ribs, hip—mapping every inch I could reach before my hand found the gorgeous swell of his dick. The contrast between my fever-hot skin and his cool touch made me shiver, like diving into deep water on a summer’s day.

I wished more than anything to make this moment last forever, but pleasure was already building, fierce and unstoppable. The exquisite friction, the feel of him—it was too much, already. I pressed my lips against the nape of his neck in a desperate kiss as I came again, my orgasm crashing over me with such force that the world went white at the edges, and I lost myself completely in the undertow.

Distantly, a guttural moan broke through my haze, cool cum coating my fingers as Seb came into my hand.

I drifted in and out of consciousness. At some point, I slipped out of Seb, though I was doing my darndest to stay inside. Seb whispered things into my ear—gentle, lovely things—but I didn’t have the strength to reply.

When I surfaced, it was to Seb hovering above me, a frown creasing his forehead. “Are you okay? Did I go too hard?”

“No,” I insisted. “It was beyond perfect.” I pushed him down to lie on his chest. “You’re perfect.”

And then it was a quiet symphony of my shallow breaths and our half-formed words. It was us madly clutching each other, foreheads pressing together as if magnetised. Eventually, he leaned up on his elbow, studying my face with an intensity that made my breath catch. Hisfingers traced delicate patterns—around my eyebrow, down my cheek, across my bottom lip—as if memorising every detail.

“Sebastián.” My voice cracked around his name, overwhelmed by the weight of what we’d just shared, what we’d confessed on this starlit rooftop.

“I know,” Seb whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “I know.” Then he studied my face for a moment. “Have I told you yet?” he said, rather seriously. “That your eyes are the exact blue of Toledo’s sky?”

I tried not to snort. “No, but that’s a good line. I’m definitely up for hearing it again.”

A smear of crimson caught my eye—my blood on Seb’s chin. Without thinking, I licked my thumb and reached up to wipe it away. His eyes followed the motion, as I offered him my thumb. He caught my wrist, drawing it into his mouth. The cool slide of his tongue made me shiver.

“Is my demon blood still demon-ing?” I tried to joke, but anxiety crept in as the post-sex haze faded. The chill in my veins felt more prominent, an icy thread winding through my chest.

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