A soft, helpless moan escaped her throat, and then—she kissed him back.
Vector groaned, deep and primal, yanking at his chains as his entire body demanded more. He was starving, ravenous, burning alive with a need so consuming he thought it might kill him.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she opened for him.
The taste of her—sweet, intoxicating—sent him reeling, his mind fracturing under the sheer force of possession.
Her body pressed against his, soft and warm and willing.Her nails raked up his arms, dragging over his shoulders as if she couldn’t stop herself from touching him. As if she needed to feel him as much as he needed to feel her.
A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. His dragon rejoiced.
Ours.
Raven gasped into his mouth, her entire body trembling, but she didn’t pull away.
She couldn’t.
Vector’s magic was inside her now, sinking deep, binding her to him with every ragged breath, every desperate touch. She was caught in his web, ensnared in something far greater than either of them.
This wasn’t lust.
It was fate.
And there was no escape.
Not for either of them.
Raven was lost.
Drowning in the heat of him, in the wild, untamed power that wrapped around her, through her,inside her.
His kiss was devastating—ruthless, consuming, a claim as much as it was a seduction. His mouth moved against hers like he was starving, and she was the only thing that could save him.
Shewantedto save him. Wanted to be what he craved. What he needed.
The chains rattled as he fought against them, his muscles flexing, his bodystrainingtoward her. He was pure strength, pure dominance, a beast barely contained—and she should have been afraid.
She wasn’t.
She wanted him, wanted him more than her next breath.
Vector wrenched his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged, his green eyes dark with unholy fire. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen, kiss-bruised. A slow, feral smile curved his mouth.
"You're mine now," he murmured, his voice thick, possessive. "Youfeelthe truth, don’t you?"
She should have argued. Should have denied it. But the truth was already sinking into her bones, deeper than thought, deeper than reason. She was his.
And the worst part?
She wanted to be.
His bound hands lifted, and she felt his fingers, rough and strong, tracing up her arms, dragging the delicate blouse she wore up over her head. The calloused tips of his fingers sent fire licking across her skin.
She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning in him. In heat.
The chains gave just enough slack for him to reach her, just enough for him to slide his fingers beneath the thin straps of her bra and drag them down.
She gasped, heat flashing through her as the fabric slipped lower, as the cool air kissed newly exposed skin.
