s and raw sensation. The drug had burn
, a presence, a source of warmth and strength in the c
of his neck. It felt good. Solid. Her arms tightened their grip,
, a name surfaced. A name tied to a desperate, twisted n
son
r lips as a soft
e throwing
ound her waist, which had been a firm brace, became a vise. The pressure
omplex mix of concern and desire, were
ut, the words low and serrated,
rescued. This was how it was supposed to feel. She didn't re
n," and, tilting her head up, she
e final tra
ng he could not, w
ped from his throat. It was the sound of som
ved he
ing to him, the next she was airborne, her bod
the wa
th, her nose, shocking her system. The violent coughing that fol
teeth into her skin, a stark contrast
est rose and fell in harsh, ragged breaths. He didn't move to help her. H
d was a unique form of torture. A low, wounded whimper escaped her lips, the sound of an an
ve the surface, gasping for air
Her vision, for the first time in an hour, started to clear. T
ood ra
asn't
he man who had warned her. The face from the newspaper clippings. The face
as H
jolted through her spine, overriding the
mming desperately for the e
mov
his advance reaching her first. He was a shark, and she was bleeding
m the tiled edge when his h
nacle of fl
yan
away from safety, back i
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