I slide her shirt off, slow. Then reach behind her and unhook her bra. It falls, and instantly she folds her arms, face going bright red.
She was screaming my name ten minutes ago, and now she’s shy.
I smirk.
“Leggings.”
She hesitates but obeys, moving slowly, legs still shaking.
As she peels them down, I lean in, voice at her ear. “You’re not hiding from me, sweetheart.”
I hook my fingers in her panties and slide them down her thighs. She gasps but keeps covering herself.
In one swift motion, I lift her off the bed.
“Flynn!” she snaps, her arms tightening around my neck.
“Ah—so she speaks.” I glance at her, and she rolls her eyes, blushing deeper.
I carry her into the bathroom and step into the shower, holding her against me as the water hits her skin. She exhales like she’s been holding her breath this entire time.
The bruises bloom clearer now on her thighs, the faint burn on her shoulder from the rug.
My marks.
My cock twitches at the sight. She looks wrecked and beautiful.
“Wash up, and then lie down. You need to rest.” I tell her and walk out. She doesn’t say anything, and that’s for the best, but the truth is I need more. I want more. Crave it like air.
I walk to my bedroom and grab the leather box, still in its original package, something I ordered the moment I got her to the mansion. I pick the lube and head back. She’s still in the shower, so I sit on the chair in the corner. My shirt hangs open, and my abs rise and fall like I just ran a marathon. I clench and unclench my fists, eyes squeezed shut as I pull the control back. I haven’t felt like this in years, and it’s dangerous for her. For both of us.
The water stops running. After a few minutes, she walks out, hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, towel wrapped tight around her breasts, covering just enough to tease. She gasps when she sees me, eyes widening in that mix of fear and spark.
I stand up slowly and step closer. She steps back, her gaze locked on mine, pulse flickering fast at her throat.
“On the bed,” I order. She freezes, staring, so I close the gap. “Now, Autumn.” I know she wants to snap back, lips parting like she’s loading the words, but I also know her curiosity will win. It always does.
She squints, defiance flashing hot, but moves to the bed. Sits down, clutching the towel like a lifeline, knuckles white.
“Turn around, ass up.” I tell her and place the box next to her. Her eyes go wide, breath catching.
“What?” She moves to stand, but I grab her neck and push her down firmly.
“Do as you’re told, trouble.” I command, voice rough from the restraint I’m barely holding.
She shakes her head stubbornly, and I press harder on her neck, just enough to warn. Her nails dig into my wrists, hard, cutting skin, and a rush slams down my spine, hot and electric. She is all sweet and innocent on the surface, but she fights like a fucking cat, and it drives me insane. Feeds that primal need to chase her, bend her, mark her like an animal claiming territory.
“Autumn,” I warn low. Her eyes meet mine, stormy with challenge. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, that ass is mine. Now you train it to take me, or I will do it right now.”
She lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering like she’s testing if I’m serious. I ease the grip, let air flood back, but my hand stays there on her soft neck, thumb stroking the pulse.
“Fine.” She finally grunts, voice tight with reluctant heat. I remove my hand and let her turn around. The towel slides down, pooling at her waist, and she presses her breasts to the mattress, body tense.
“Now ass up, knees bent, head on the mattress.” I guide her with hands on her hips, and she obeys, but I catch the fire in her eyes over her shoulder. This will probably cost me something, but I don’t give a fuck. She can burn this place to the ground for all I care, as long as she’s mine in the ashes.
I position myself behind and see her ass cheeks part slightly, inviting despite the tremble. I rub my hands up and down her back, slow and firm, and she shivers under the touch, skin prickling. “Now relax.”
The box sits next to her, and she watches it warily as I open it. Four plugs nestle in black silk cloth, each a different size, gleaming under the light. She gasps, body tensing again.
