Lyra writhed on the silk sheets, her body a battlefield of torment and desperate need. Sweat beaded on her flushed skin, tracing rivulets down her temples, her neck, her heaving chest. Her breathing was ragged, uneven, punctuated by gasps and whimpers.
Her body was on fire, an inferno raging within her. Every brush of fabric against her sensitized skin was unbearable, a source of exquisite agony. Every second without their touch was sheer torment, an unbearable ache that clawed at her very core.
Tears streamed relentlessly down her flushed cheeks as she clutched at the sheets, twisting them into helpless knots, her entire body trembling with a desperate, uncontrollable need.
“Please. Make it stop…I can’t— I need— I need you…”
Xander knelt beside the bed, his formidable chest heaving
