Chapter 39
(Lenora POV)
I feel claws dig into my thighs—sharp, possessive, claiming.
My head drops forward and my eyes roll back. It's not pain. It's pure, white-hot pleasure, spreading like wildfire under my skin. My knees are barely holding me upright, and my mouth is open, gasping for breath I can't catch.
Then he pulls me up.
Not gently. Not carefully.
Like a beast reclaiming what's his.
One powerful arm wraps around my waist, the other slides up—palm at my throat, claws pressing into the sensitive skin there. He yanks me flush against his chest. I feel every inch of him, hard and relentless, still driving up into me without pause.
My back arches, neck tilted as he holds me in that vicious grip, claws nicking skin—just enough to sting, just enough to mark.
I moan. Loud. Broken. My body has completely given up pretending to resist.
I want this.
I want him.
He growls, voice low and primal against my ear. "Mine."
