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“Then stop teasing and fill the void you’ve created, you infuriating control freak.”

Ah, I love being told what to do.

I thrust forward in one deep, sensual glide, burying myself to the hilt in her welcoming heat.

The sensation is transcendent—velvet vice gripping me, her inner walls fluttering in residual spasms. We both groan,foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the charged space.

I move with deliberate strokes, deep and rolling, each withdrawal a slow drag that builds exquisite friction, each return a claiming thrust that seats me fully. Our bodies align in perfect rhythm, hips meeting with wet, obscene sounds underscored by the music’s pulse.

Her nails rake down my back, leaving trails of fire that only heighten the pleasure.

“Harder,” she demands, even as her voice cracks with overstimulation. “I want to feel you tomorrow, every time I fucking move.”

“Greedy little Omega,” I growl, obliging with increased pace, one hand anchoring her hip while the other braces beside her head.

Sweat slicks our skin, scents merging into something potent and all-consuming—citrus-amber dominance entwined with her berry-chocolate lightning. Lust spikes through me in waves, possessive obsession coiling tighter:she is ours, this brilliant, broken wonder who dismantled my walls without a single scalpel.

My mouth finds hers again and it’s a collision, all teeth and tongue, greedy for every molecule of her taste.

Her thighs splay for me in a silent demand, wrapping around my waist so tightly I think she’d fuse us if she could. She is fire and madness, arching with every thrust as her nails rake down my spine, her hips canting up to meet my cock like she’s calculated the optimal trajectory for maximum devastation.

I am not immune.

I have never been immune, not from the second she first looked at me with that wild, unblinking curiosity.

The friction is exquisite, every drag of my length through her is laced with the slick, electric velvet of her heat, the tension between us stretched so thin it could shear atoms.

She clings to me, her arms around my neck, her body trembling as she rides the razor-edge between pleasure and pain. Her eyes, blown wide with a supernova of genius and lust, fixate on me with an intensity that borders on religious.

“Is this what you wanted?” I murmur, words muffled against her skin, “To see how far I’ll go before I break?” I punctuate the challenge with a brutal snap of my hips, and she gasps, her entire frame shuddering as she claws at my shoulder blades.

Her laugh is a low, delirious thing, pitched somewhere between a dare and a plea.

“I wanted to see if you’d survive it,” she mumbles, voice half-strangled by the force of sensation. “I keep telling you, Lucien, I’m not playing fair.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

My hands grip her thighs, fingers digging in so possessively I know I’ll leave perfect bruises come morning. I draw back to look at her, to memorize the way she looks when completely unmasked—the flush of her cheeks, the delicate sheen of sweat beading at her hairline, the insane, beautiful defiance in her gaze even as she falls apart for me.

The tension inside her is a living thing, her whole body quivering under the weight of her own anticipation.

The climb is relentless, and I make her feel every inch of it, every measured thrust calculated to keep her teetering on the brink, denying release until I want it.

Her breathing turns to whimpers, then ragged, desperate cries as her back arches and her heels dig into my ass, urging me deeper. Her scent blooms in waves—fructose and ozone, strawberries macerated in a heady, feral musk that threatens to drown both of us.

I am awash in it, electrified by her pheromones and the visible, tangible proof of her undoing.

She is the very definition of addictive, and I can’t get enough.

I shift my angle, one hand moving to cradle the back of her head and the other slipping between us to circle her clit.

The effect is immediate and volcanic: she thrashes under me, nearly bucking us off the mat, the sound she makes so raw and animal I want to bottle it, inject it directly into my bloodstream.

I want to be the only one who’s ever heard that sound.

“You’re so fucking close,” I hiss, “let it happen, Vex. Give it to me.”

She shakes her head, teeth bared in a desperate smile.