When Cayden pulled away, he was breathing heavily, his hot breath puffing out against my forehead. I clutched his T-shirt, my mind hazy. He held me just like that for a moment, still gripping my throat so tight that I could barely breathe. He took in my half-closed eyes and reddened lips, puffy from his violent kissing, and his blood. It felt like a stain of ownership. Slowly, he released my neck, and air filled my lungs again.
