“You already are.”
The words detonate inside me, filthy, final, undeniable—and my hips betray me completely.
I grind down on him, wild, broken, desperate, the shard slipping bloody from my hand as my body takes over, as ruin drowns out every lie I tried to cling to.
The shard clatters from my hand, forgotten in the wreckage. His blood stains my fingers, but it’s the heat between my thighs that consumes me now. I grind harder against him, the thick ridge of his cock straining against his trousers, dragging over my clit until sparks explode behind my eyes.
His grip on my throat tightens, thumb stroking the bruise he left there. His laugh is ragged, half-snarl, half-groan, his head tipping back as I move faster, desperate, ruined, lost.
“Look at you,” he growls, hips jerking up into mine, meeting my rhythm. “Bleeding, filthy, soaking my cock like it belongs to you. All that hate pouring out of your mouth, but your cunt’s writing love letters across me.”
I bite down on a sob, grind harder, nails digging into his chest until the skin breaks, until I leave my own marks in him.
His eyes flash, wild, hungry, and he rasps through gritted teeth, “Do you want to ride me, little fairy?”
The words slam into me, brutal and filthy, making my hips jerk harder, shameless now, grinding against him like I’ll die if Istop. A sound tears out of my throat, half scream, half moan, raw and desperate.
“Answer me,” he snarls, dragging me harder along his cock, each grind harder, filthier, wetter than the last. “Do you want to sink down on me until your body forgets it ever belonged to anyone else?”
I can’t speak. My voice is shredded. All I can do is move—grind, buck, ride him through the ruin of blood and paper like I’ve been starving my whole life.
His jaw clenches, veins standing in his neck, his control fraying as I use him the way he’s always used me. His cock twitches against me, straining, aching to be inside, but he doesn’t give it yet. He lets me drive him insane with every frantic grind, his hook pressing cold into my thigh like a threat, his fingers bruising my throat like a collar.
“Fuck,” he snarls, head snapping forward, forehead pressed hard against mine, breath hot and broken. “You’re going to ride me tonight, little fairy. You’re going to ruin yourself on me until you can’t even remember what it felt like to fight me.”
I gasp, hips rolling harder, chasing it, burning in it, drowning in it.
And for the first time, he looks undone beneath me.
His cock strains thick and furious beneath me, soaking through his trousers where I’ve been grinding him raw. My thighs shake, my pussy throbs, slick soaking down my legs, and still it isn’t enough. I need more. I need all of him.
He feels it too. His control snaps like the mirror I shattered.
With a guttural snarl, his hands leave my throat only long enough to tear at the fastening of his trousers. Fabric rips, buttons scatter, and then he shoves them down just far enough to free himself—thick, swollen, wet at the tip with hunger.
My breath shreds out of me, my nails biting into his chest, but he doesn’t give me time to think. He grips my hips hard, lifts me like I weigh nothing, and drags me down.
I gasp, the head of him stretching me wide, tearing me open in one brutal thrust. My scream breaks into the air, my body clenching tight, slick spilling down his length as he fills me.
He growls, low and vicious, head tipping back, his teeth bared as he sinks deeper. “Fuck—look at you. Taking me like you were built for it.”
I shudder, the shock of it forcing my nails deeper into his skin. Blood beads under my fingertips, streaking down his chest, mixing with mine.
He grips my waist, drags me down harder, grinding me into his cock until I’m seated full, stretched wide, stuffed with every inch of him. His laugh is ragged, savage.
“There she is,” he snarls, slamming me down once more, my body clenching, betraying me with the way it grips him. “My little fairy. Riding me bloody, riding me broken, riding me like you’ve been waiting your whole life to split yourself open on me.”
A sob rips from my throat, half-pleasure, half-shame, my hips already moving without my permission. Grinding. Lifting. Slamming back down on him with desperate abandon.
He groans, hook clenching against my thigh, his eyes wild as he watches me. “That’s it. Use me. Fuck yourself on me until your body forgets every lie you ever told yourself.”
I ride him harder, faster, my hair sticking to my face, my breath tearing ragged as his cock splits me open again and again. Each thrust drives me deeper into the papers and glass, every movement a signature in blood, in ruin, in heat.
His hand fists my hair, yanking my head back, his teeth scraping my throat as he growls, “Do you feel that? That’s power. Not ink. Not paper. Not chains. Just me—inside you. Owning you in the only way that matters.”
I break again, hips snapping wild against him, grinding harder, losing myself in the filth and fury of it, my body riding him like he’s both my executioner and my salvation.
His cock slams into me again and again, each thrust brutal, relentless, forcing my body to take more than it should. My thighs burn, my nails carve him bloody, my pussy clenches so tight I can feel him throbbing inside me.
