OLIVIA POV
I didn’t even know how many times he’d made me shatter beneath him.
One wave after another. Pleasure rolling through me like thunder over an endless field. He pushed me to my limit—then past it—again and again, until I was breathless and limp, tears slipping silently from the corners of my eyes. My body should’ve begged for rest.
But it didn’t.
I wasn’t satiated. I was starving.
And I realized, with blinding clarity, why: he had given me everything—his hands, his mouth, his words. He had taken me apart with devotion and patience, but he had still held back. Still in control. Still the one driving us forward, holding me when I broke, kissing me when I wept.
But I needed to see *him* break. For me.
I needed my mate undone.
“Albert,” I whispered, voice hoarse and shaking.
