Cellie's POV
Demetrio buried his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin, holding me steady while I tried to remember how my own limbs worked, how to string thought to thought, who I was supposed to be outside of this room. My body was a collection of pleasant aftershocks, a distant echo of the earthquake he had just unleashed.
We stayed like that for a long moment, my mind blank, my body still humming, and I registered with a slow, creeping horror how warm and solid he felt wrapped around me. How easy it would be to just stay there, to let him hold me, to forget about the world outside this room. That thought alone was enough to make my stomach drop. No. Absolutely not.
I could feel him watching me, but I found the carpet infinitely more interesting than his face, to
