If there was one thing Dimitri was good at, it was channeling his rage when he had an enemy in his sights. He felt the pulses of pleasure, but since he never allowed himself to feel it so prominently before, he pushed through, occupying the doppelganger until he was certain Imogen was out of its sight. It accosted him with vision after vision still, making him ache for the touch of her; soft skin against the scarred mess of his broad chest, her lips on his, her hands wandering he length of his body and his own exploring hers.

He sounded like an animal the way he growled in some twisted fit of pleasure and fury, chasing the thing until he had no choice but to stop. It got away, but he was determined to hunt it down in the future, kill it for the things it had subjected them both to.

Panting, he stumbled back, falling to the ground with his head in his hands. He was so painfully aroused, flustered, and angry, he didn't know what else to even do.