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The air between us is heavy, filled with the musk of our passion. Her breath is a jagged counterpoint to the steady, insistent rhythm of our bodies. I growl, my voice a mere shadow of the beast stirring within. "Mine," I assert again, claiming her lips with a fierce kiss.
She meets my thrusts with an equal hunger, her body yielding to my possession. Her softness envelops me, drawing me deeper, holding me captive. With each stroke, I feel a primal satisfaction, a sense of ownership that goes beyond the physical.
This fawn is mine, body and soul.
Her head falls back, baring her delicate throat. Her neck is pale, inviting, and I can't resist the urge to mark it. Gently, I nip at the pulse point, feeling the frantic beat of her heart against my lips.
"Lucian," she moans, her voice thick with need. "More. Harder."
A dark smile curls my lips. I can give her harder. I pull back, grasping her hips, and thrust into her with all the force I possess. The bed creaks in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. Her cry of pleasure fills the room, a music that only spurs me on.
With each thrust, I claim her further, branding her as mine. The pleasure builds, an inferno raging in my veins, but I hold back the tide, wanting to extend this moment for as long as possible.
Her emerald eyes fly open, meeting mine. There is a challenge in her gaze, but also a trust that I won't break her. I lean down, my lips brushing her ear.
"Come for me again, little fawn," I command, my voice raw with need. "Show me what I do to you."
A strangled cry escapes her, her body tensing on the edge of oblivion. "Lucian! Oh, fuck, Lucian!" Her release washes over me, her inner muscles clenching and releasing, milking me.
I can't hold back any longer. My own orgasm builds, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to overwhelm me. With one last powerful thrust, I follow her over the edge, crying out her name as I find my release. My body shudders, spent, but my arms remain steadfast, holding her close.
The aftermath washes over us, leaving us breathless, sated.
I lean my forehead against hers, our sweat-dampened skin creating a sweet connection. Her eyes are closed, her expression soft, vulnerable.
"You are exquisite, my fawn," I murmur, my voice hoarse. "Absolutely perfect."
She offers me a lazy smile, her cheeks still flushed with the aftermath of pleasure. "You're not so bad yourself, Hunter," she pants. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my back, her touch sending shivers down my spine.
Her words are a cold reminder of our reality beyond these walls, however unintentional.
I am the Hunter, and she is my prey, ensnared in my web.
And with each touch, I weave the web tighter, binding her to me.
Eventually, there will be no escape, but tonight… tonight, claiming her this way will have to be enough.
Chapter Seventeen
THE FAWN
Consciousness seeps in slowly, my mind reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of sleep.
I feel the solid weight of an arm draped across my waist, the heat of a body pressed against my back. For a moment, I allow myself to sink into the comfort, to pretend that this is normal, that I'm waking up in the arms of a lover and not my captor.
But reality is a cruel mistress, and she won't be ignored for long. My eyes flutter open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the hotel room.
The events of last night come rushing back.
The dinner.
The knife.
The way Lucian claimed me so thoroughly, so completely.
I can still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, the ache between my thighs a reminder of the pleasure he wrung from my body. Shame and desire war within me, a twisted tangle of emotions that I'm not ready to unravel.
How can I crave the touch of the man who's hunting me? A man who's made it clear that he intends to break me in every way possible?
