Page 73 of Hunted to Be Mine

I watched her face as she moved. Her eyes went heavy, mouth parted, breaths quickening. Her hands braced on my chest, mindful of the bruises, as she found a rhythm that had both of us chasing it.

“Selina,” I warned, control fraying. “If you keep that up…”

“Shh.” She kissed me, still rocking. “I know what I’m doing.”

I believed her. She wore a different kind of certainty now, a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. It sent another bolt through me.

She straightened and lifted her hips. One hand slid between us and guided me to her. “Look at me.”

I did. Watched her sink down on me, inch by inch. Heat and tightness cinched around me until it bordered on pain. My hands flew to her hips when the train tilted.

“Fuck.” I fought for control when she took all of me.

She held still for a beat, adjusting. The clench of her around me dragged a sound from deep in my chest.

“You feel so good.” She started to move. “So deep like this.”

I watched where we fit together, unable to look away as she rode me. She tested the sway at first. Then set a pace, sure and building, until both our breaths came ragged.

The berth complained under us. The train thundered on. I didn’t care who heard. The world narrowed to this bed, this body, this heat.

I slipped a hand from her hip to where we joined and found her clit with my thumb. She gasped, rhythm faltering as I circled.

“That’s it,” I said. “Let me feel you.”

“Yes.” Her voice broke. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

I wasn’t stopping. Not when she looked like this—open, raw, taking what she wanted. This wasn’t just sex. It was real. Dangerous in a different way.

I pressed harder with my thumb. “I want to feel you come against me.”

Her rhythm stuttered, need kicking. I gripped her hip with my free hand, anchoring her while she chased it. When it broke over her, her back arched and she clamped around me hard, my name on her mouth—Specter—and for the first time I wished I knew who I’d been so she could say it.

Watching her unravel, feeling those sharp pulses drag me with her, shoved me to the edge. I thrust up, ignoring the fire in my side, wanting closer. Deeper.

“I’m close.” My voice was tight. “Selina…”

She bent down, chest to chest, mouth at my ear. “I’m here. Only you.”

The last thread snapped. Pleasure slammed through me, hot and blinding, as I spilled inside her with a raw sound. She kept moving, coaxing the last of it until I was spent and heavy beneath her.

She draped herself over me, careful of the bruises, breath warm on my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and held on. The train carried us forward, steady and unbothered.

“You okay?” she asked against my skin. “Your side—”

“Worth it.” I kissed her temple. “I’d take that pain any day.”

She shifted to move off. I tightened my hold. “Hold on. Stay.”

She settled again, still joined. The quiet should’ve let reality in—danger, doubt about who I was, the fact that this wasn’t built to last. For once, the noise in my head went quiet.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, fingertip drawing shapes on my chest.

I could’ve lied. She didn’t deserve it. “That I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” I gestured between us. “Whatever this is.”