Avery:
The room was quiet now.
Not silent—Cruz’s breathing filled it, deep and steady beneath me—but quiet in that thick, weighted way that comes after you’ve let someone take every single part of you and still want to stay. My legs ached in the best kind of way, my skin tingled where he’d gripped it, marked it, kissed it.
And yet, somehow, my heart was louder than all of it.
It thudded against my ribs like it didn’t quite know what to do with itself. I mean, what did you do when Mr. Stone Cold Dangerous decided to make you his whole goddamn world for the night?
Because that’s what it felt like.
Like Cruz hadn’t just devoured me—he’d worshipped me. Claimed me. Not with sweet words or candlelight, but with something rawer. Realer. Like he needed me in a way that was terrifying, and be
