"I know."
"I hate what you did to me."
"You should."
"I hate that I'm here. That I came looking for you. That I can't seem to let you go."
"I know." His forehead rests against mine. "I know, Adelaide. And it's okay. All of it is okay."
"It's not okay." Tears are streaming down my face again. "Nothing about this is okay."
"No," he agrees. "It's not. But we're here anyway."
I don't know who moves first. Maybe both of us. But suddenly we're kissing, desperate and furious, tasting blood and salt and rage. His hands are in my hair, on my back, pulling me closer. My hands are on his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palms, feeling the wounds I gave him bleed.
"I hate you," I gasp against his mouth.
"I know," he breathes back, and kisses me deeper.
We're tearing at clothes, his and mine, desperate and clumsy. The ruins around us provide no shelter, no privacy, but I don't care. I need this. Need him. Need to feel something other than this endless, aching rage.
His hands are everywhere, reverent and possessive at once. He pulls me into his lap and I wrap my legs around his hips. I can feel him, hard and ready against my thigh.
"Adelaide." My name is a question and a plea. "Are you sure?"
"Shut up." I pull him down into another kiss. "Just—shut up and—"
I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. He groans into my mouth as he grabs my thighs, positioning himself between them. His cock is already hard and leaking. Blue and green scales cover his length along with ridges. I can feel it throbbing against my thigh.
He enters me slowly, so slowly, and he's huge. Bigger than I remember from the dreams the bond gave me during my cursed sleep. I gasp, my body stretching to accommodate him, and he freezes.
"Breathe," he murmurs against my ear. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."
His hand slides between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and he circles it gently as he pushes deeper. The pleasure cuts through the discomfort, makes me arch into him.
"That's it," he praises. "You're doing so well. Taking me so perfectly."
"I hate you," I gasp out, but my body is singing.
"Fuck," he groans, pushing harder. "I know." He pushes deeper, and I feel impossibly full. "I know you do."
"Too big," I gasp, my nails digging into his scaled shoulders, trying to find purchase, trying to hurt him. "You're too—it's too much—"
"You can take it," he growls, pushing deeper, inch by inch. The ridges on his cock drag against my inner walls, and I whimper, my body fighting him even as it yields. "That's my good girl. You've taken it for a century. You can take it now."
But it's different. God, it's so different. I was asleep then. Now I'm awake, and I can feel everything. Every ridge, every inch, every brutal stretch. My muscles clench around him, resisting, and he has to work for it, pushing forward, pulling back, pushing deeper. His blood drips from his stomach onto my stomach, painting my skin red, and I feel savage satisfaction at the sight.
"Look at me," he demands, gripping my jaw with one clawed hand, careful not to cut me even now, forcing me to meet his black eyes. "Look at me while I fuck you. While I claim you. You're awake now. You can see what you do to me."
I lock eyes with him, and I know mine are full of tears and rage and something darker. Something that feels like starvation.
He thrusts forward hard, burying another few inches inside me, and I scream. My body convulses around him, so tight he can barely move. He's only halfway inside me. I can feel it, the impossible fullness, the stretch that borders on pain. I'm already so full I can't breathe.
"Beautiful," he pants, looking down between us. "So fucking beautiful taking my cock. Look, Adelaide. Look at what you do."
I follow his gaze and see it. The bulge in my stomach where his cock is buried inside me. The sight should horrify me. Instead, something feral and possessive surges through my chest.
He presses his clawed hand against the bulge, and I feel the pressure from both sides, inside and out. He groans, his eyes rolling back, and I watch him lose control. I did that. I made him lose control.
