The room smelled of iron and sweat, thick with something primal, something forbidden. The sheets beneath Ethan’s knees were already ruined, deep crimson soaking into the fabric, staining his skin, branding him in ways he couldn’t erase.
Above him, Selene sat back against the headboard, one leg bent, the other draped over his shoulder, her fingers tangled in his hair. The slow drag of her nails over his scalp sent a full-body shudder through him, but it was the scent of her, earthy, metallic, intoxicating, that had him trembling.
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