Page 163 of Marked By His Hunger
And everything else disappeared.
Warmth.
Strength.
Scent—dark chocolate, aged wine, something wild and dangerous beneath it.
His embrace wasn’t just physical.
It was claiming.
Anchoring.
Possessive in a way that didn’t feel suffocating.
It felt inevitable.
“What manner of magic dwells inside you,” he murmured, voice reverent, “I would give all I am just for a taste.”
His wings unfurled around us like black silk shadows.
Shielding.
Isolating.
The world narrowed to him.
“Raven,” I breathed, tugging him down to my mouth.
The kiss ignited instantly.
No hesitation.
No soft testing.
His hunger pressed into me, and my body responded without thought.
It wasn’t delicate.
It wasn’t tentative.
It was building.
Layered.
Every kiss more consuming than the last.
His hand at my waist tightened.
His control thinned.
“Serena,” he growled, breath ragged. “Not here.”
“Then where?” I demanded.
My voice sounded wrecked.
Desperate.
