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Christian gives me no time to think about my frustration. He climbs off then rests on the balls of his feet as he uses his hand soaked with my sticky arousal and strokes his dick before notching himself at my entrance. He exhales, then thrusts inside. There is no guise of shyness between us. We both understand that death is easily on our trail.

My teeth sink into my lips, puncturing the soft flesh. Blood trickles down the corner of my mouth. Christian raises his mouth to mine, his tongue lapping it up without refrain. My body arches into him, fitting perfectly like I was meant for him all this time. I’m so wet, the girth of him doesn’t inflict any pain. His dick stretches me tight. So tight I can feel him against my stomach as I skim my hands across my pelvis.

“I’m never fucking letting you go again.” He thrusts again, this time deeper and curses.

Christian’s words are cryptic, but I’ve no time to decipher. My muscles clench around him. He cups my breast, leaning down to nip at it. At the same time, he pulls out and thrusts hard again and again. The room fills with my moans, carrying with me my satisfaction at his violent and aggressive touch.

“You’ve always liked it rough.” His voice is barely perceptible as he continues to move into me, drilling at an unforgiving pace.

“Christian.”

He shifts now, hooking his powerful arms under my knees to push them toward my shoulders. The deeper angle and the fullness of him hitting a new spot has my muscles wired tight. From above, he watches his dick slide in and out of me with hooded eyes and I can’t tear my eyes away. The sight is beautiful. Flesh to flesh. Him, in me.

“You’re beautiful, but no beauty compares to you taking me like this.”

My heart skips a beat at the possessive edge woven into his words. Christian groans, his dark copper eyes full of dangerous heat. I have no words to give him when I’m this near to release. He growls as if he knows what I’m thinking, his eyes narrowing on me with intense fixation. The mounting pleasure with each slow thrust drives me into darkness. My eyes shut and all I can feel is the rhythm of him and the melody of our pleasure. I clench around him and his words become an incomprehensible string of filthy praises.

“You’re so fucking good. All of you, every bit of you. I’ll take you whichever way you arrive. In any world, in any life.”

“Is that a promise?” The words slip from my lips before I can register what I’m saying. His hands come up to cup my face, then he kisses me roughly and starts to pound into me again. I wrap my thighs around his hips, arching to meet every thrust and I’m pulled back into blinding bliss. Every nerve is electrified with pleasure. My climax is so close, but I don’t want it to end.

What happens when we leave this room? When the morning sun rises, and the darkness stays behind; all that will exist is this memory, and all that we’ll be are two people marooned in the unknown.

Goosebumps flourish along my arms as Christian kisses along my jaw, hands roaming my body as mindless as I am. I’m gasping for air, scraping deep grooves along his back and clamping tightly around him. Why don’t I want this to end? Christian bites hard on my shoulder, blood trickling down to my clavicle, pooling in the small pocket there. His dick is throbbing with the need to release, and my climax hits me like a cold winter storm. It’s ravaged and primitive, taking every bit of anger and uncertainty with it.

“Marisa—Fuck. Fuck—” His curses breaks off as he pummels me harder, ravaging every part of my body. I moan, prolonged and discordant as he brings me to my apex. My muscles spasm with waves of pleasure. My breathing comes in shallow gulps of air, marching along with the buzzes of ecstasy that rush through my muscles, to my bones.

Finally, the waves recede and I’m able to draw a deep inhale. But then⁠—

Christian grips my hips with crushing strength and shoves as deep as he can get and spills inside of me. Our mouths meet, groaning into one another. He holds himself there, his hips shifting as the aftershock of climax washes over him.

A flash of light startles me as Christian snaps a picture of me, tangled hair, hooded eyes, and flushed cheeks. We both chuckle at the action. He gives me a quick peck and climbs off of me.

“Thank hell we almost drowned tonight,” he remarks, appraisal glimmering in his gaze.

“I almost drowned in water. You drowned in me.” Sitting up in bed, I nod to the slickness between my legs.

His eyes flare with new hunger.

“So, we were talking about plans?” I wink, earning a bark of laughter.

The giddiness that I feel right now cannot be contained as I slip through the solarium and up the secret stairs, Misty softly huffing behind me. Each step feels lighter and I imagine this is what walking on clouds must feel like.

The moment I cross the threshold into my room all giddiness sloughs away. Pulled from my body and into the emptiness of the house.

I throw myself onto the bed, only to be inconvenienced by the sharp edge of Sara’s book poking into my torso.

Didn’t I leave this on the mantlepiece?

Like the waves during low tide, the night’s events trickle in—the real truth of Kieran’s motives. He had mentioned staging a body on the shore—to sway suspicion—as if suspicion were a simple thing to move. But if he could do that—if whatever was arranged here showed up there, on the other side, solid and real—then the wall between the two worlds is thinner than I’d let myself believe. Actually, I don’t know if I buy the two worlds theory. But if the creatures indicate anything, it’s that wherever I came from, is not the same as where I am now.

Things passed through this world. People passed through it. I may have passed through it by whoever pushed me from the cliffs. I look around the room—what is supposed to be Sara Wren’s room, and it holds a far new light—or I hold new eyes for it, I cannot tell which. I have been moving through this space for weeks like a guest. But I’m not, am I? Were my parents really the Wren’s that bought this place?

I am her. But she is not me.

Is this what Christian suspects?

My skin is still warm with the scent of him. Everything pliant and calm, the way the air feels after rain when the pressure finally breaks. I move to stand at the window and let myself have it for a moment longer. Just a moment.