But even through the pillow, even through the layers of fabric, he could still hear them. In his mind's eye, he could still see Rex's hands on her neck and hear the wet, rhythmic grinding that spoke of a pleasure so intense it had destroyed her.
He curled into a fetal position, rocking slightly, trying to drown out the phantom sounds of her screaming Rex's name, praying for a morning that would never feel the same again.
Rex felt the subtle shift in the air when Theo retreated. Through the thin walls and the heavy door, he could sense the frantic footsteps and the distant slam of a bedroom door.
A cruel, knowing smirk spread across his face as he maintained his punishing rhythm, feeling Diana's hips buck upward instinctively as he drove deeper.
"Your little friend ran away, Diana," Rex whispered against her ear, his breath hot and demanding.
