Page 59 of Borrowed

Teeth.

Tongue.

Heat.

His fingers gripped my jaw, holding me in place like I might vanish again if he didn’t own every inch of me.

“I waited for you,” I gasped against his lips.“I waited in the dark.”

“I died for you,” he growled.“And now you’ll live for me.”

He yanked my thighs open, pulling me into his hips, the buttons of his shirt scraping across my chest, the floor beneath us digging into my spine, but I didn’t care.Pain felt like home.His breath tasted like fire.

Like that night.

It burned.

It devoured.

He entered me without patience, without words, just a groan like a man breaking open.My body arched.My nails clawed at his back.I wanted to be inside him.

To tear open his ribs and crawl inside.

Toby moved like vengeance.

Every thrust, a memory.

Every kiss, a scar reopened.

I burned.I erupted.The black butterflies were on fire around us, fluttering in a cadence that swirled like the smoke we were born in.

The wings beat in time with my moans.Toby growled, and it felt like the house shook beneath us, ready to finally collapse after years of being left broken.

“You’re my ruin, Sister.You are everything in me I’m scared to feel but everything I crave never to forget.”

“This is where we end,” I whispered, eyes rolling back.

“No,” Toby snarled, pounding harder.“This is where we begin.”

He gripped my throat.

Not to hurt.

But to anchor.

To remind me.

I was his body, mind, and soul.My very existence was his demand.

His fingers brushed my jaw, tracing the blood at my nose and smearing it down my lips and then lower, across my chest, down the line of my ribs, so softly it made me shiver.

“You don’t even know what you are,” he said.

“Yes, I do.”

He gritted his teeth.“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”