He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow. He fucks me like the scars are an oath he’s driving deeper with each thrust, his cock branding me from the inside while the wounds on my skin sting and bleed beneath his mouth.
“Do you feel it?” he snarls, teeth scraping over a fresh line across my breast, biting until blood wells. “Your body’s a contract, little fairy. Every mark mine. Every moan mine. Every fucking drop inside you?—”
His hips slam harder, brutal, relentless, his cock twitching deep.
“—mine.”
I break with him, shattering, my scream tearing the air apart as my pussy convulses, soaking him, choking him, dragging himinto my ruin. My back arches off the bed, scars screaming, fresh blood smearing across my chest as my orgasm rips me to pieces.
He roars, guttural, feral, his grip on my wrists bruising bone as his cock pulses deep, hot and violent, spilling into me. His hips grind down, forcing me to take every drop, his breath ragged, teeth sinking into my shoulder like he needs blood to seal it.
I sob beneath him, wrecked, trembling, his seed dripping inside me, spreading heat through every wound he opened.
He lifts his head, lips wet with my blood, his eyes wild, unhinged, locked on mine.
“You’ll wear me forever,” he rasps, voice hoarse and broken, forehead pressing hard to mine. “Not just on your skin. Not just in your cunt. In your soul.”
And as his cock throbs the last of him into me, as my body still convulses around him, I realise?—
He’s right.
I am branded.
Inside and out.
Forever.
The room is wreckage—glass, blood, paper, sweat—our ruin spread across every inch. He’s still inside me, heavy, throbbing, his seed seeping deep where my body still clenches around him.His breath scorches my cheek, his hand bruises my wrists, his mouth drips my blood.
And I should feel nothing but hate.
Hate sharp enough to carve my way out of this cage.
My chest aches. My throat tightens. My stomach knots, not from fear, not from pain—something worse.
When his forehead presses against mine, when his breath rasps broken against my lips, when his eyes look at me like I’m both curse and salvation, something in me cracks.
Not surrender.
Not obedience.
Something softer.
Something I swore I’d never let him touch.
Love.
The realisation rips through me colder than the hook ever could. My breath shudders, my heart pounding sick and traitorous in my chest.
I choke it down, bite it back, swallow it deep where he can’t reach. I won’t give him that word. I won’t let him know.
Inside, the truth burns hot and poisonous.
I think I’m falling in love with the monster who ruined me and that is the sharpest brand of all.
Hook
She hasn’t said the word.
