I kissed her back until the taste of cherry candy and salt tears and dark chocolate milk blurred into a single flavor that belonged only to this moment, only to this girl, only to the candlelit wreck we’d made of these wine-colored sheets.

Then I pulled back.

Addison’s hands chased me, fingers catching the edge of my jaw before I moved out of reach. Her brown eyes burned through the displaced violet contacts, mascara ruined, lipstick gone, every shield she’d ever built lying in pieces around her on the mattress.

"Where are you going."

Not a question. A demand from someone who had just screamed my name loud enough to rattle the Sanctum’s fake windows and was not about to let me walk away from the crime scene.

I sat back on my knees between her legs and unbuttoned my jeans. The denim had become genuinely painful about ten minutes ago, somewhere between the second spanking and the moment she went silent instead of screaming, and the relief when I shoved them down my hips was immediate and borderline spiritual.

Addison’s eyes dropped.

Her entire face changed.

The vulnerability from five seconds ago evaporated like rain on a hot engine block, replaced by something hungry and predatory that I recognized from the way she looked at training dummies right before she manifested twin scythes and carved them into kindling. Her mouth fell open slightly, the ruined black lips parting, and she stared at me with the kind of focus she probably reserved for identifying which part of a monster to dismember first.

"That’s." She stopped. Started again. "Aurora said. She mentioned. But I thought she was."

"Exaggerating?"

"Being Aurora."

"She wasn’t."

Addison bit her bottom lip hard enough to leave teeth marks in the smeared lipstick. Her thighs shifted against the sheets, pressing together and then apart in an unconscious rhythm that she absolutely did not notice and I absolutely did.

"I want that inside me."

"I figured."

"Now."

"You didn’t say please."

Her brown eyes behind the violet contacts went nuclear. She grabbed a fistful of the sheet and threw it at my face, missing entirely because her coordination had been obliterated by two consecutive orgasms and the Euphoric Feedback still humming through her system at a residual level four.

"If you make me say please one more time I swear on my grandmother’s grave I will summon both scythes in this pocket dimension and"

I grabbed her ankles and yanked her down the bed toward me.

The motion dragged her across the ruined sheets in a streak of milk and sweat, her hair fanning out behind her and her stockings sliding against the fabric until her hips met mine and she could feel exactly what she’d been staring at pressed flat against her stomach. Hard and hot and close enough that one adjustment of angle would put me right where she wanted.

Her breath caught.

Not a gasp. Not a moan. Just a tiny hitch in the rhythm of her breathing that she tried to hide and failed, her stomach tightening beneath me as the reality of what was about to happen finally registered through the haze of spent orgasms and accumulated pleasure.

"Last chance to tell me to stop."

"If you stop I’ll haunt you."

"You’re not dead."

"I WILL FIND A WAY."

I laughed against her collarbone and she hit my shoulder again with that same solid fist, the impact barely registering through the adrenaline and desire flooding every cell of my body. I kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder, the one that made her spine bend, and she groaned something that was half my name and half a profanity that would get her expelled from polite company.

I lined up. Pressed forward. Just the head, just enough to feel the heat of her wrapping around me in a grip so tight that my vision went white at the edges.

Addison’s hands found my back and her nails dug in like she was trying to carve her initials into my shoulder blades. Her legs came up and locked behind my waist, heels pressing into the small of my back with the strength of someone who had spent years training with heavy weapons, and the force of her pull drove me deeper than I intended.

We both made sounds that the English language was not designed to contain.

She was tight in a way that defied the fact that I’d just given her two orgasms and she was dripping down the insides of her thighs onto sheets that were already a lost cause. Her body gripped me like it was trying to memorize the shape of me, every ridge and curve catalogued by muscles that pulsed in slow waves from base to tip.

"Fuck." Her voice cracked on the word. "Fuck, you’re. Oh my god."

I pushed the rest of the way in.

Addison’s eyes rolled back. Not the performative kind that people do because they think it looks good. Her actual eyes rolled into the back of her skull as her nervous system processed the sensation of being completely full, her mouth falling open in a perfect O that smeared what remained of her black lipstick against the pillow when her head twisted sideways.

I held still. Let her adjust. Watched the candlelight play across the contorted planes of her face as she worked through the initial shock of the stretch, her thighs trembling against my hips and her chest heaving with ragged breaths that made the milk still leaking from her nipples run in thin lines down the sides of her breasts.

"Move," she whispered.

I pulled back slow and pushed in harder.

The noise she made did not belong in a bedroom. It belonged in a cathedral or a war zone, somewhere built to contain sounds of that magnitude. Her nails tore down my back in parallel lines that I felt open and bleed, warm trickles running along my spine, and the pain hit Euphoric Feedback’s passive processing and converted into pleasure that shot straight to my hips and made me thrust again before I planned to.

Addison’s response was to tighten her legs around my waist and pull me deeper while arching her back off the mattress, presenting her throat in an invitation so obvious that a blind person would have read it.

I wrapped my hand around her neck.

Not squeezing. Not yet. Just the weight of my palm across her throat, my thumb resting against the rapid flutter of her pulse while my fingers curled around the side to hold her jaw in place. The position forced her to look straight up at me.

"There it is." Her voice came out thin and compressed beneath my hand. "That’s what I wanted."