A sob broke, twisting and turning into a keening cry. His hand came over her mouth, muffling the sound.

It was astonishing. She didn’t know it could be like this. She didn’t know her body could feel these things, that her heart . . .

“Go ahead. Scream into my hand,” he encouraged.

She writhed under him, her body out of control, without grace or rhythm now.

He drove into her again and she broke, exploding in a violent burst. Her tears streamed down her cheeks. “Constantine,” she cried into his palm and went limp, quivering in the aftermath.

He didn’t stop though.

He continued riding her, pumping relentlessly.

His hands clenched around her hips, hauling her in for his plunging cock. “Almost there,” he panted.

She gasped, feeling the slow stir again, the build of sensation. “Oh, oh, oh.”

He was unrelenting, driving into her ruthlessly.

“I can’t . . . not again.” Her head rolled side to side on the bed.

His thrusts came faster, harder, pushing her again to the edge of release.

She clutched at him, her hands clawing, moving up his back. He launched her over the edge again. Unbelievably. Incredibly.

He plowed her body like a man, no, a beast, released from his cage after years of captivity, all savage intensity. As though his life depended on reaching his climax.

A few more strokes and he stilled, arching his throat and tossing back his head with a groan as he broke and spilled inside her.

Her breasts rose and fell in heavy pants.

He lowered his gaze back down to her and she knew she looked astonished, ravaged.

Wrecked.

Because that was how she felt.

She couldn’t steady her breathing. Not yet. She pushed back loose tendrils of hair from her face and stared up at him, fighting to regain her breath. “Oh . . . my.”

“Oh my, indeed.” He rolled off her and fell on his back beside her, flinging his arm over his face.

She turned her face to the side to study him, taking comfort in the fact that he was breathless, too. She supposed that meant he felt as shattered as she did.

She smiled, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. That felt . . . clingy. Like someone who needed emotional reassurance following physical intimacy. That wasn’t her. She frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

It couldn’t be her.

Silence descended. She held still, wondering, waiting as the seconds ticked. How long would they stay like this? How long would he remain here? In her room? In her bed?

It couldn’t be much longer. They didn’t have that luxury.

“Well,” he pronounced, lifting his arm from his face. “It is clear what must be done now.”

Chapter 26

Nora took a moment, rolling his words around in her mind, turning them over curiously . . . those words that he uttered rather grimly. What could that mean?

She moistened her lips. “What do you mean?”