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He pressed his cock against her entrance—hot, hard, slick with her want—and held still. Just enough friction to make her cry out.

“You want him,” he growled, voice low against her ear, “but you will burn for me.”

Her hands clutched at his back. Her mouth opened, but no words came—only a desperate, choking gasp as she rocked her hips up again.

He held steady. Let her grind against him. Let her take. Let her claim.

Kaos’s jaw clenched with the Rage curling under his ribs. Lust swirled through her skin and back into him—echoing the need he planted there. She would wake up with it buried in her scent, in her thighs, in the guilt that would crawl across her chest when she looked at Kohl. And he’d feel it. He’d see it. He’d smell what Kaos had done. Because she chose him.

Her breath caught again. Her voice barely formed the words. “You’ll… be my first…” Her hips surged, her mouth opened wide. “I don’t care that you’re a dream. I don’t care what this is. I want it.”

She devoured him. Tore into his mouth like it was oxygen. Clawed at his chest like she needed to leave proof.

Kaos pushed into her—slow, deep, burning for everything she gave, everything he was allowed to take in a dream. He dragged every thick inch through her heat, pulsing around him with a promise she couldn’t keep. Her walls clamped down with every breathless cry she gave, every tremble of surrender shaking her frame beneath him.

He watched with all his being as she broke apart—watched the war between guilt and ecstasy detonate behind her eyes. Her voice fractured, desperate and raw. Her legs locked tight around his hips, nails scoring down his back, carving her choice into his skin.

That was the moment it hit him.

The claim.

It roared through his bones, flooding every corner of his being with her submission. Not from some divine appointed duty, or from logic, but from a deep, aching, eternal need. And it belonged to him.

He thrust deeper—harder, sharper, stripping breath from her lungs as he pinned her to an edge she couldn’t crawl back from. He gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, driving into her with everything he was forbidden to have.

The pleasure rose, vicious and fast. Rage curled around lust, both snarling, both demanding, both poised for detonation. He found her mouth again and sealed all of it with a kiss, with a final slam of his cock, deep and tight. His brutal release pulsed hot, a guttural growl tearing through his chest.

And she took it. Moaning, arching, grinding against him like she was begging to be marked deeper.

Kaos didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He stared down at the dream of her—face flushed, lips parted, skin damp with devotion. He felt it spill out of her spirit like perfume. A heat that didn’t belong to her alone. It was his. It hadhisname on it. And she would carry it now, through every breath, every motion,every night she woke up aching for something she thought wasn’t real.

It wouldn’t trigger spiritual alarms. No one would trace it. The power belonged to human fantasy and harmless dreams.

But not to him. The taste of her would live in his mouth. A hunger he’d never escape. And never wanted to.

Kaos pulled out slowly, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the dreamscape as it began to blur at the edges. Her hands reached for him—whisper-soft, murmuring things she wouldn’t remember.

He stared down at her, the last pulse of heat draining from his cock, and gave her the only thing left. “You’ll forget,” he whispered, kissing her brow. “But I won’t.”

The dream dissolved around him—leaving her soaked in a bond she wouldn’t see… and him burning in one he couldn’t break.

Chapter Seven

The ache woke her. Sharp. Deep. Centered low between her thighs and pulsing up through her belly like an aftershock.

She shifted under the sheets and gasped. Her skin was on fire. Every nerve buzzed. Her nipples ached against her shirt.

Holy hallucinations.

Her eyes fluttered. Bedroom. Morning light. Her bed. She glanced down. Tank top. Boy shorts.

Alone.

She sat up fast. Kohl.

The smell of food hit her, and she kicked her way out of the sheets. Then froze.

Her hand flew to her mouth. Black wings. Huge. Holding her. His heat, his mouth on her neck, claws trailing over her skin! Oh God, that voice—thunder wrapped in thick smoke. “Fall for me.”