My lungs burn instantly. Chest heaves against his grip. Panic flickers, but heat pools hotter between my thighs. I nod frantically, eyes locked on his.
He watches, savage satisfaction curling his lips. Veins bulge thick along his forearm as he tightens a fraction more. “Good girl. Feel that? Your air is mine. Your pulse. Your cunt.” His free hand wedges between us, cupping me rough through fabric. “All mine to give or take.”
Stars dance. Lungs scream. I buck harder, soaked and aching, tears spilling down my temples.
He leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Now breathe and thank me.”
Air rushes in, and I gasp. “Fuck you, Flynn.”
He smirks, then with one fluid yank he rips his belt free. Leather whispers through loops like a promise. I kick wild, but his thighs clamp mine like iron traps. He lifts just enough to flip me; my face slams into the rug, coarse fibres biting my cheek. My hands jerk behind my back, the belt loops tight, binding my wrists.
I buck hard, fight, but his knee digs into my lower back. Pins me flat with his weight.
His hand slides to my waistband. Tugs my leggings down to mid-knee in one rough pull. Panties snag and follow, baring me cold.
He drops over me again. Zipper rasps loudly in the quiet. “Let’s see if you can take all of me now.” Voice rough, dark, heavy with hunger.
His arm plants beside my face, muscles bulging, veins roping thick under ink as he holds himself up. Other hand wedges between my thighs. One finger presses slow at my entrance. My body shivers violently, slick heat betraying me.
“So fucking wet, trouble.” He grunts, warm breath caressing my ear.
“Flynn.” It spills, breathy, needy and raw.
His huge tip nudges my entrance, blunt and demanding. “Now, be a good girl and relax that pretty cunt for me.”
My body obeys like he commands it. He presses slow. Every inch stretches, burns laced with pleasure. Walls scream to yield, giving room inch by torturous inch.
“That’s it. Open for me.” He groans, teeth sinking into my earlobe. “I want to mark you, Autumn. Your skin. Your cunt. All of you.”
A moan tears free. He surges forward in one brutal slide. Fire explodes. I scream, pain and fear twisting sharp. “Feel that? Now I’m all inside you.” He draws back slow, thrusts in again. Every vein, every ridge drags against my sensitive walls. Pleasure builds through the ache.
Then he pulls out. Tip presses lower, nudging my ass. I freeze solid.
“Please, Flynn. Don’t. I can’t.” Voice shakes, fear spiking cold.
“I know.” He kisses my temple softly, almost tender, as my forehead presses on the rug. “We’ll train this. In a week you’ll drip my cum from your ass and pussy.” He grunts a low, filthy promise.
His words ignite something twisted; my body craves harder. Never thought this darkness would soak me, but his control, voice like velvet oversteel, muscles tensing over me. All of it. Makes me want to submit, push, obey and defy in the same breath.
He slams back into my cunt. Air blasts from my lungs. He thrusts relentless, harder. Skin slaps echo off grey walls. My body slides under the force. He hauls me back by my bound hands, owning the rhythm.
“Call me fucking bestie now.” He roars like thunder.
“Flynn.” His name moans like prayer. Body accustoms to his size. Pain softens, and pleasure surges hot.
“You offered me your blood, and now I’m taking it all.” He thrusts harder. “All of this.” Deeper. “Belongs.” Brutal. “To me.”
He pulls out suddenly. Flips me roughly, and my back slams on the floor; pain radiates from my bound hands. He shoves my legs wide, slides down, and I feel his tongue twisting wickedly on my clit.
“Oh my—” A moan cuts off raw; the sensation explodes, different from that night. Different from anything. My back arches helplessly, hips grinding up into his mouth.
He stands between my legs, towering like a storm about to break. I look down at him through the haze of my own ragged breaths as he grabs the hem of his shirt and peels it off slow, like he knows exactly what the sight does to me.
His torso hits me like a punch, pure power and barely leashed rage etched in every hard line. Tattoos swarm his chest: skulls grinning through drips of crimson blood, crows with wings spread wide in mid-flight, all tangled around a thick Celtic knot that pulses over his pecs with every heavy breath he takes.
My eyes drag lower, helpless, tracing the deep ridges of his abs, each one carved sharp , leading straight down to that perfect V-line, a cruel arrow pointing to the promise below. His cock juts huge and thick, veins roping angrily along the length, glistening slick with us, tip flushed dark and demanding. He palms it lazily, fingers wrapping around it, stroking once like he’s teasing himself as muchas me.
My eyes snap up to meet his. Anger burns hot in those pupils, black swallowing any trace of green, a wildfire ready to consume.
