Chapter 186

• Howard didn't relent after Charlotte's shattering release—her walls clenched and fluttered around him in pulsing waves, but he powered through, hips slamming harder, chasing his own edge with feral intensity. Sweat-slicked skin slapped rhythmically, her juices easing the way even as exhaustion crashed over her like a tide. She sagged beneath him, limbs heavy, breaths ragged gasps, but tonight his emotions churned wild: grief-fueled anger at her "madness"; burning lust stripping him raw; and tangled love refusing to let go. It twisted him into something primal, animalistic—frustrated by the chaos yet unable to deny his craving for her.
• "Fuck, Charlotte," he snarled low, voice a guttural rasp against her throat, teeth sinking deep into the soft juncture of neck and shoulder. Sharp pain bloomed as he bit down hard—marking her with jagged indents, the copper tang of blood teasing his tongue. She cried out, a whimper laced with sting, body arching involuntarily, nails digging bloody crescents into his back. "Howard—slow, please; it hurts," she gasped, hands shoving weakly at his chest, thighs trembling from overstimulation.
• But he ignored her, frustration boiling over—still doubting her rebirth lies, still aching from Wendell's grave, yet his cock throbbed impossibly harder inside her slick heat, affection warring with rage. He growled, pinning her wrists tighter overhead, thrusting brutally now: deep, punishing strokes that stretched her sore pussy to the brink, balls slapping her ass with wet smacks. Each plunge bordered agony for her—a raw burn where pleasure faded to ache—but he couldn't stop, hips pistoning like a machine, grunting with every hilt-deep bury.