[ He knew, deep in the back of his mind that could still think between those needy gasps, the frenzy of her grip that pushed and pushed and pushed... He knew, somehow, that what Saya felt was simple need, not what he felt. She would have smiled more; she should be laughing. He'd seen it a hundred times and more in his marks. But he didn't, couldn't dwell on that when she was here, now, pressing against him with incessant demand.
He answered.
Shifting, he rolled them, pressing Saya against the wall and leaning into her body with a grip on her shoulders, a knee between her legs. His teeth grazed at her jaw, her throat, marking her. He had no qualms about taking what he could get.
And tomorrow, he'd challenge her again, as often as necessary, to live. ]