Page 76 of Shattered Obsession

All of me.

-Xander-

The air simmers. We’re staring at each other, waiting to see who breaks first, but it’s neither one nor the other.

The fight is still burning in my chest when I grab her. I don’t think, I just act, mouth crashing against hers, swallowing her words before they can cut me again. She tastes like fury, like fire, and fuck if I don’t want to drown in it. Her hands tear at my shirt, nails scraping my skin like she wants to leave her anger etched into me. Good. I deserve it. I deserve all of it for making her feel like she’s weak when all I want is to keep her safe.

When her back hits the wall, I don’t let up. My tongue pushes into her mouth, demanding, claiming, and when she bites me, the sting makes me groan, deep and raw.

“You drive me insane,” I growl against her throat, biting hard enough to leave a mark. My teeth graze her skin, and her moan vibrates straight down my spine.

She yanks my hair, eyes blazing, and spits back, “Good. Maybe now you know how I feel.”

Fuck. She’s not fragile. She’s fire. And I can’t decide if I want to smother it or burn alive in it.

I scoop her up, her legs clamping around my waist like she belongs there, and I throw us onto the bed. She lands beneath me, messy, gorgeous, defiant. My hand wraps gently but firmly around her throat, pinning her in place. She gasps, but her eyes don’t leave mine.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” I whisper, needing her to know I’ll never cross that line. Her lips curl into a smile, dangerous and needy.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

That’s all I need. I drive into her hard, every thrust a release of the rage and fear I can’t put into words. Her nails dig into my back, sharp and punishing, and I want her to scar me. I want her to mark me so I can carry proof that she’s mine.

“Mine,” I snarl into her ear. My voice shakes with how badly I mean it.

“Yes,” she moans, clutching me tighter, her voice breaking. “Yours. Always yours.”

Her body clenches around me, pulling me under as she shatters, and I lose myself with her, spilling into her with a groan I can’t hold back. I bury my face in her neck, tasting sweat and salt, whispering her name like a prayer, like an oath.

For a while, we just breathe together, hearts pounding in sync. My chest aches, not from the fight, not from the sex, but from the sheer weight of how much I love her.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” I confess into her hair, the words rough.

Thalia’s therapist keeps giving me assignments.

Today’s was ‘practice sitting with discomfort instead of fixing it.’

I hate it.

I know how to eliminate threats.

Pain? I can take it.

Discomfort? Hell no.

But loving Thalia requires sitting in that discomfort.

Letting her struggle without swooping in.

Learning to not be her shield, but her partner.

I make a silent vow.

I will love her without smothering her.

Protect her without owning her.

Fight beside her, not for her.