He pushes in slowly, stretching me, and I can’t hold back the moan that rips from my throat. He watches me, eyes sharp and calculating, as if he’s gauging how much I can take.
“You feel that?” he whispers, sliding deeper, his fingers digging into my hips. “You’re taking it so well. So desperate. You’re already clenching around me, like you don’t want me to stop.”
I whimper, trying to steady my breathing, but he doesn’t give me a chance to adjust, thrusting hard, forcing a cry from my lips.
“Good girl,” he rasps, his hands moving to my waist, holding me steady as he drives into me, relentless and rough. “You like being used, don’t you? Like being caught and claimed. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
He presses the spider container against my chest, the cool plastic biting into my skin, and I shudder, terrified he’ll let her out again.
“One more wrong move,” he warns, thrusting deeper, “and I might just let her crawl all over you. Maybe let her explore how wet you are. Would you scream? Or would you just take it like the good little pet you are?”
My entire body tenses, and he laughs, biting down on my neck hard enough to leave a mark.
“You like the fear,” he murmurs, his rhythm never faltering. “It makes you tighter, makes you cling to me. You want me to push you further, don’t you? Want me to make you cry and cum at the same time.”
I can’t speak, too overwhelmed, and he grabs my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
“Say it,” he demands. “Say you’re mine. Say you’ll never run from me again.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I choke on the words.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I won’t… I won’t run.”
His smirk is vicious, and he kisses me hard, bruising and consuming.
“Good girl,” he growls, pushing me closer to the edge with every brutal thrust. “You’re going to cum for me again, and you’re going to do it while you’re terrified. Because that’s what makes you mine—the way your fear turns you into a beautiful, trembling mess.”
He speeds up, his hands gripping my thighs, forcing them wider, his mouth never leaving mine. I can’t hold it back, the pleasure building too fast, too intense, and when I finally shatter, he doesn’t stop, dragging out every shudder and sob.
He finally pulls out, breathing hard, his hands still holding me in place as if daring me to move. He leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth, almost gently, and I feel his fingers brush over my throat again.
“You did so good,” he whispers, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “But next time… I think I’ll let Vex crawl even lower. Slide her legs along your tight little pussy. Just to see how much you can really take.”
And I know, deep down, that no matter how much I tell myself I hate him…
I’ll never stop wanting to be caught.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAMIEN
Dragging her through the crowd feels good—too good. I wrap my hand around her wrist, and she stumbles to keep up, but I don’t slow down. She keeps trying to twist free, her fingers clawing at my grip, but it’s useless. I’m not letting her go. Not after what she pulled.
The parade is still in full swing, chaos swirling around us. People laugh and dance, oblivious to the way she’s struggling, to the way I’m practically dragging her through the maze of bodies. No one cares. They’re too wrapped up in their celebration of the damned.
Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and I know she’s desperate—looking for some way to slip out of my grasp. I squeeze her wrist harder, yanking her closer so she’s pressed against my side, her chest heaving against my arm.
“You really thought you could get away from me,” I hiss into her ear, my voice low and rough. “After everything I’ve done to make you mine? Stupid, reckless girl.”
She doesn’t respond, but I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips, her skin hot and clammy. I push through a group ofdancers, ignoring their annoyed glances. One of them, a girl in a skeletal bodysuit, smirks at me, her eyes flicking to Raven like she’s sizing her up. I bare my teeth in a snarl, and she backs off, giggling.
“You really like to make things difficult,” I mutter, pulling her to the side, pinning her against a lamppost. She tries to shove me off, but I grab both of her wrists, forcing them above her head, my body caging hers in.
Her eyes are wild, darting from side to side, probably looking for someone to help. Stupid. No one here will step in. Not when I look at her like this—like she’s mine to break.
“You made me chase you,” I whisper, my mouth brushing over her jaw, and she shivers, trying to turn her face away. I catch her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Do you know how fucking angry that makes me?”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off, pressing my body harder against hers.
