Page 120 of Marked By His Hunger

---

Not like I was interesting.

But like I was necessary.

Essential.

Like something in him had already decided—and there was no undoing it.

That look hit deeper than anything else.

My pulse thundered.

Hard.

Fast.

Unstoppable.

It felt like it might bruise my ribs from the inside.

He lifted his hand.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like I might break if he moved too fast.

His fingers brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear, his palm settling against my cheek.

Warm.

Steady.

Reverent.

I leaned into it without thinking.

Without hesitation.

Like I’d done it a hundred times before.

Like my body already knew him.

“Raven…” The sound that left me wasn’t quite his name anymore.

It was something softer.

Something deeper.

Something that belonged to him.

His thumb brushed my cheek.

Barely there.

But it sent another wave through me—sharper this time, more focused.

Lower.

---