The words detonate through me, heat flooding my chest, my cock, my whole fucking body. I choke, and I’m not sure if it’s panic anymore, or hunger, or both tangled into something I can’t crawl out of.
The world tilts. One second I’m crushed under him, wrists pinned, body burning—the next, he yanks me upright like I weigh nothing. My head spins, my curls yanked in his fist, my chest slamming into his as he drags me off the bed.
“On your feet,” he growls.
I stumble, legs weak, but I move. He doesn’t give me a choice. His hand never leaves my hair, dragging me across the warped floor until my back hits the cold wall. The impact knocks a grunt out of me, my palms flying up to catch myself against the peeling wallpaper.
And then he’s there.
Pressing me flat, pinning me with the full weight of him, hips driving against mine until I cry out. His mouth crushes into me again, teeth and tongue, no air, no mercy. My phone torchis still dead on the floor, so the room is pitch black—just stormlight flickering through the curtains, thunder shaking the windows, lightning flashing enough to show me the shadows of him.
Predator. Captain. God.
“You wanted this?” he snarls against my mouth, his hand fisting my hair tighter, forcing my head back against the wall. “Came looking for it, didn’t you, pup?”
“Yes, sir,” I gasp, my voice cracking, my whole body arching for him.
His eyes catch the lightning once and I swear my knees nearly buckle. Then his hand slides from my hair to my throat, thumb pressing my chin up until I’m straining to breathe.
“Then earn it.”
My whole body shudders. I don’t even know what he means, not really, but my mouth opens anyway. “How?”
His smirk is lethal, shadow cutting across the scar at his lip. His hips slam harder into mine, grinding me against the wall until I’m gasping, choking, whimpering against his palm.
“Show me what you’re good for,” he rasps, low and filthy, his forehead slamming against mine again, rough, intimate, claiming. “On your knees, in your mouth, or against this wall. Doesn’t matter which—just prove you’re mine.”
Lightning flashes. Thunder cracks. The whole building shakes. And I nod like I’d bleed myself out on this floor if he told me to.
“Yes, sir.”
The second his words hit me—on your knees, in your mouth, against this wall—my body makes the choice for me. My legs give out. I sink.
The storm rattles the glass, thunder tearing through the walls, but all I hear is my knees hitting the warped floorboards and his breath hissing out low and harsh above me. My hands slide up the wall behind him for balance, then fall useless to my thighs, trembling.
I look up.
Fuck.
He’s huge from here. Towering. His hair is damp and wild around his face. His eyes pin me to the floor like I’m nothing and everything all at once. The storm flickers blue light across his bare chest, every muscle cut sharp, bruises painting his ribs, tape still biting his knuckles.
I don’t even think—I just reach. My fingers curl at the waistband of his sweats, tentative for all of a second before he snarls low in his throat. One big hand snaps down into my curls, yanking my head back so my throat arches, mouth parted, breath ragged.
“Look at you,” he growls, rough, disbelieving, like he’s been waiting for this and dreading it at the same time. “Down onyour knees already. You even know what you’re begging for, pup?”
“Y-yes, sir,” I rasp, voice breaking. My chest is heaving, my cock straining in my sweats, and I don’t care. Not when he’s looking at me like this.
He smirks—cruel, perfect. His thumb brushes my lower lip, presses until my mouth opens wider, a wrecked whimper spilling out.
I shudder, thighs trembling, cock twitching just from that. He must feel it in my whole body, because his smirk widens as he fists tighter in my curls.
“Then open wider.”
And I do.
Fuck. I do.
“Wider.”
