Kane's POV
I opened my eyes and froze. There she was—Elena, on her knees, not with those cold, dark pools of emotion I had expected, but with eyes that were unmistakably hers. Her mouth was full of me. The sight was both a cruel confirmation and a heartbreaking betrayal.
"Fuck, Elena—I'm sorry," I managed to choke out, my voice raw with guilt. But she didn't seem to hear me. One of her hands was busy fingering herself, while the other gripped me, keeping me deep in her warmth as her mouth worked me relentlessly.
In that moment, every ounce of remorse, every bit of self-loathing, washed over me. I felt as if I were dissolving—my own desire, my own darkness, colliding with the desperate hunger in her eyes. I wanted to reach out, to pull her away from this madness, but I was trapped in the bittersweet torment of what I'd become and what I'd done.
