Chapter 18 Any Escape
- Ghost POV
- His fingers clutch at my shoulders, nails biting into my skin, and I welcome the sting. It grounds me, keeps me tethered to the raw physicality of this. Each thrust is a declaration, a way to silence the noise in my head. My frustration, my rage, my obsession—all of it dissipates with every groan, every gasp he lets out.
- “Fuck, Ghost,” he breathes, his voice raspy and broken. “Don’t stop.”