The metallic clink of his belt echoes through the stillness, and heat floods my chest, spine pulled tight by a raw, animal hunger I have no hope of killing.
One hand holds me pinned, fingers curled tight around the back of my neck, forcing my cheek against the bark once again. My body is strung tight, a live wire sparking under his grip. Every inch of me screams with anticipation, untamed and ready to snap.
Then he drives into me in one savage, unforgiving thrust, and the air tears from my lungs like it’s been stolen. A sound rips from my throat—part moan, part cry, choked and desperate as he fills me completely, merciless in his pace.
I’m not ready for this, yet my body opens for him like it’s been waiting for him all along.
I crave him. Recklessly. Ravenously.
And that might be the most fucked-up part of all.
Cold metal drags against my walls. I jerk beneath him, eyes rolling back.
Oh God. He’s pierced.
“Yes!” I cry as he slams into me like I’m the battlefield and he’s hell-bent on burning it all to the ground.
He takes me like it’s vengeance. Like every insult, every courtroom blow, every scar I left on his soul demands repayment.
His thrusts are punishing, each one ripping a breathless sound from my throat, grinding me down until there’s nothing left but surrender. A beastly growl tears from him as his fingers clamp my hips, bruising me with the kind of grip that swears I’ll never forget him.
“You give in to me so easily, Ms. Prosecutor,” he rasps. “Even when it kills you.”
He pounds deeper, harder. Each thrust is a brutal promise, like he’s trying to fuck something out of me. Or maybe out of himself.
His pace turns wild, like breaking me is the only thing that might save him. And God, I want him to. The hard bite of metalrubs against my walls with every drive of his cock, each piercing dragging fire through me, pushing me closer to a place I can’t crawl back from.
“Say it.” His teeth sink into the curve of my neck, and it only fuels me. “Say you hate me, moya ptichka.”
“I hate you,” I gasp, the truth dragging out of me on a ragged breath.
“Good girl.”
His pace turns ruthless, each drive more feral than the last, like he’s making me feel what I just said. One hand fastens around my throat while the other slides lower, rough fingers circling my clit—not to give me pleasure, but to show me what he’s capable of.
He pinches. Slaps. Toys with me like my body is his weapon of choice.
“I hate you too. Every defiant inch. The way you make me need this. Make me need you.”
His words rip through me, and my body answers anyway, helpless and burning, caught between the heat sparking off us and a desire I can’t outrun.
“This is nothing.” My nails claw against the bark. “Just sex. You’re nothing to me. You never will be.”
His fingers knot in my hair and yank, dragging my spine into an arch until every thought burns out. No air or logic. Just the feeling of him. The sheer savagery of his fucking.
“And this is all you’re good for,” he taunts, fingers clamping around my throat again, pressure tightening as his mouth charts a ruthless path down my neck—biting, sucking, devouring. “A tight hole to fill. A body to break. And mine to take again and again.”
Rage tears through me. But with every violent thrust, my body submits to him like it never left.
“Is that supposed to hurt me?” I laugh again. “You want me to cry? Want me to be sad about it? Keep dreaming, asshole. I’m using you just as much.”
His hips slam into me in response, cruel and relentless, dragging a moan from my throat that I wish I could bury. My back bends, and I curse him for knowing exactly how to tear me apart.
I melt for him. Yield for him. Break for him.
His touch is callous as he circles and spanks my clit while slamming into me over and over, until I’m crying his name like it’s salvation and sin rolled into one.
“Oh fuck, Aleksei! This is too much.” His name leaves my mouth like a sob, like a curse, like a plea I never meant to give him.
